Most Unusual
by Just A Penniless Writer
Summary: With a trick loving father and a puzzle solving mother, could Tony Williams be anything other than a Slytherin? HPLabyrinth with a pinch of JS
1. Prologue

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

_**Disclaimer:**_ Not mine. Neither of them.  
_**Author's Rant:**_ A _Labyrinth/Harry Potter_ crossover, because they go so well together. I've been playing around with this idea for awhile and despite my other outstanding stories, I simply had to get it started. If my knowledge of canon is not up to par, please forgive me. In fact, forgive me for the whole story. It's total crap. But it's fun crap and that's what counts, eh?  
**_Pairing:_** Jareth/Sarah. Is there any other?

**_Edited:_** 10.27.05 - Canon accuracy, stupid grammar errors, and general idiocy.

* * *

**Prologue: _A Beginning of Sorts_**

Catalina Stebbins couldn't help but wonder about the woman sitting on the couch in front of her. She had been working for the Ministry of Magic's Muggle-born Inclusion Division for many years and never had she come across a case such as this. Most missions she went on followed a set pattern, and though there were the occasional deviations, they too were similar. But this... this was unheard of. No Muggle should ever accept magic and wizardry so easily.

"Hmmm… Where can I pick up Tony's supplies? I'm supposing there's a market hidden away from prying eyes?"

"Yes. You can purchase Antonius' belongings in Diagon Alley. If you wish, I can take you there now to get a feel for the place. It's generally a good place for an introduction to the wizarding community."

"Wonderful! I'll just get my purse." As the dark haired woman rose, she called out to her son, a boy recently turned eleven, with sandy brown hair and interesting eyes, one of which was blue and the other green. Of course, the only reason Miss Stebbins had noticed this was because the variation was so great. The blue was clear and pale, the green strong and vibrant. When paired with his easy smile, the boy was quite the charmer. But then how many young boys weren't?

"Tony, are you ready?"

"Yes, Mom! Can I pick up a present for father while we are there?"

The quick Miss Stebbins caught the reference and frowned slightly.

"I thought you said Antonius was not familiar with his father?"

Miss Williams turned from her position and leaned against a wall to pull on a shoe.

"He doesn't much see his father is what I said. However, the two do exchange letters and presents regularly." The statement seemed almost prepared, and Miss Stebbins' frown became more prominent.

"Does the father have any connections with the wizarding world?" she questioned carefully.

A suspicious glance was exchanged between mother and son.

"Nope," the son answered resolutely while locking eyes with the unsuspecting visitor. "Dad has no ties to the wizarding world."

Miss Stebbins smiled tiredly, suddenly forgetting that she was interested in the mysterious parentage of one Antonius "Tony" Williams.

They took Muggle transportation to Diagon Alley, in order for Miss Williams to acquaint herself with the way. As they walked down the final street, Miss Stebbins explained some of what being the mother of a wizard would entail.

"Owls? Really… imagine that."

"We do realize some people are unaccustomed to owls…"

"Oh," Miss Williams interrupted. "Not at all! I… befriended an owl a few years before Tony was born." A giggle from the listening child sparked the worker's suspicions once more. However, before further inquisition, the boy interrupted with a happy squeal.

"Hey, Mom! It's the Leaky Cauldron! Can we drop by and say hi to Tom before we go on?"

Beyond shocked, the poor perplexed Miss Stebbins watched as the child ran into what should have been an unseen pub. When she entered in half a daze, she saw the balding old barkeep ruffling the boy's hair as he smiled warmly at Miss Williams. The odd group was in the middle of what seemed to be catching up when the old wizard noticed the staring Ministry worker.

"Ah, Miss Stebbins. What brings you here today? Care for a drink?"

"Huh… I mean, no thank you, Tom. I'm on Ministry business. How… how do you know Miss Williams?"

Seeming to understand the situation, the bartender smiled toothlessly as he patted Tony Williams on his head again.

"Ah. It's about time the Ministry realized how special Master Tony is! I've been waiting for years to speak openly to Her Majesty about magic." Miss Williams playfully hit Tom's arm as she laughed, and Tony smiled wickedly.

"Her… Majesty?" Miss Stebbins questioned slowly. A glance was exchanged between mother and son once again before the boy answered.

"It's just a joke, ma'am." Looking into his mismatched eyes, Miss Stebbins forgot what she was worried about and merely smiled back.

In fact, as the day progressed, Miss Catalina Stebbins found nothing wrong with the fact that half the poorer wizarding population of Diagon Alley seemed to know Miss and young Mister Williams. She did not think it odd at all that the Gringott's goblins were filled with fear and awe at sight of the mother and son or that several house-elves abandoned their posts to carry Antonius' bags. There was nothing out of sorts about the ease in which both former Muggles had taken Floo travel.

No, when Miss Stebbins, long time worker in the Muggle-born Inclusion Division of the Ministry of Magic, returned home, she wrote up her report stating that it had been a regular, per routine integration attempt.

* * *

_heh...yeah. And Tony can't be a Larry Stu based solely on appearance. For Pete's sake, look at his father._


	2. First Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

_**Edited:**_ 10.27.05 -- Canon accuracy, grammar, and general idiocy.

* * *

**First Chapter: Platform Ponderings**

"It still amazes me…"

"What's that Mom?"

"That nothing really is what it seems."

Tony smirked slightly, reminding Sarah greatly of his father.

"But that was easy! That was nothing like the Kingdom. Just an imaged barrier."

"So says the boy who grew up around that kind of stuff. Pity your mother, Tony, as she lived only in her mind for years before she met your father."

"Will this schooling interrupt my time with Dad?"

"It shouldn't. The Headmaster has been informed of your circumstances, but he would appreciate it if you would not boast of your heritage. Apparently, there is enough of that in the wizarding community as it is… or rather there was before most of the boasters were exposed as Voldemort's supporters and imprisoned after the war."

Of course, as mother and son discussed quite pleasantly on the almost empty platform of nine and three-quarters, they had not been paying attention to the trickle of people also entering the area. Luckily enough for them, the other people were paying just as little attention to them.

"I can't believe they actually had a war. Silly people," Tony stated. "As if heritage here means anything. It's not like they have a throne to protect."

"Yes, well, you shouldn't make fun of their culture. Just be glad the war business is over and done with so you only have to concern yourself with school. Keep up with your studies so you can impress your dad and I next time he comes Above."

"Can you and Dad visit sometime? Maybe for a Quidditch game? It looks really interesting!"

"We'll see… I wonder when the first game is. It would be nice to know for my schedule. With you in school, I can go Under and do some of the things I've been neglecting."

"He has a broom. Maybe he knows," Tony said smartly, pointing at an older boy with white blond hair speaking with an older man, presumably his father, who looked almost exactly like him. Taking her son's hand, she approached the pair with determination.

"Excuse me, sir, but we were wondering if you could provide us with some information," Sarah requested politely.

The men, however, turned to her with matching scornful looks, and then proceeded to ignore her. Narrowing her eyes in anger, she tapped the elder man on his shoulder quite forcefully and repeated her question in a more clipped tone.

"Really, have I not made it obvious that I do not wish to associate with Mudbloods?" the man replied sharply.

There was a moment of silence as she processed what he had said before she broke into laughter. Her son followed suit.

"What do you find so amusing?" the man practically spit out.

"You, actually," Sarah said through her dying laughter. "You're just so perfectly biased. Really, assumption is not attractive. One of these days you are going to insult the wrong person, and I just hope I am there to see it."

Perhaps it was his feeling that the Muggle-looking, American-sounding woman in front of him was more than what she seemed, or perhaps it was merely his survival instinct that told him hexing her would only give the Aurors a reason to put him in Azkaban where he rightfully belonged... Either way, the man immediately rethought his actions and proceeded with Plan B.

"Oh, please excuse my rudeness. My son's departure always makes my temper rise. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Lucius Malfoy, and this is my son, Draco."

The change was almost astonishing. He had gone from high class, ignorant bastard to smooth debonair bastard in no time. Unfortunately for him, Sarah Williams had practice in dealing with spoiled men with volatile tempers and violent mood swings. So it was that she took his false apology and kiss of the hand with grace and a hidden smirk. She could pity the man as he had no idea what he was dealing with.

"Ah, Mr. Malfoy, such a pleasure to meet you. I am Sarah Williams, and my son is Antonius. I do believe our children will be spending some time together this year."

"And why do you say that?"

"I was informed that Draco was Head Boy and Slytherin. Is this not true?"

"Most true. I am most proud of his accomplishments," Lucius stated with a superior smirk.

"As you should be. As I was saying, Tony will most likely be sorted into Slytherin so I gathered they would become accustomed with each other."

"Slytherin… Really. It is the proudest and most highly accomplished House of the lot. I wish him luck."

Despite his pleasant demeanor, Sarah could all but hear his outrage. She smirked openly.

"Yes, well, one can only hope. Do you happen to know when the first Quidditch match is scheduled?"

At this, the younger of the blonds spoke up, just as smug as his father.

"The schedule isn't set, but the first Friday after Halloween is usually the allotted day."

"Perfect!" Turning to Tony, she smiled brightly. "It's after the Council, so as long as the Headmaster agrees, we should be able to come."

"But…" Draco interrupted, ignoring his father's signals to shut up. "How would you be able to come? It's bad enough they allow Mudbloods in without opening up the school for Muggles!"

Sarah could only laugh again.

"Really, young man, I believe you'll find that you can do just about anything if you set your mind to it."

The Malfoys could only snort with disbelief before renewing their campaign of ignoring the Unimportant Nobodies. The Williams merely smirked as they headed back to Tony's pile of luggage.

"There sure are some odd people in this society," Sarah mumbled quietly. "Please be careful. You can always call on your father if you have any problems."

"Yes, Mom."

"Owl me every week, but don't hesitate to contact me the other way in an emergency."

"Yes, Mom."

"I'll forward you all the mail you get from Uncle Toby. Just be sure not to tell him about the whole wizarding thing."

"Yes, Mom."

"And don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"You are just asking for trouble, Mom."

"At the very least, take care of whatever trouble you get in."

"I know."

By that time, the platform had grown quite full and the students had started hauling their trunks into the train. Sighing, Sarah took in her son one last time. His sandy hair was in handsome disarray, and his new robes were spotless though wrinkled. Luckily the styles of wizarding England and the Underground melded quite nicely so Tony was able to bring much of his former wardrobe. It always felt wrong letting him go for any amount of time, but by now Sarah had grown uncomfortably accustomed to it.

With one last hug and kiss, which Tony took with the proper amount of loving embarrassment, he slowly took his stuff to the train and was helped on board. It wasn't long before he found a compartment and leaned out the window to wave enthusiastically at his mother. As the train began to take off, she looked around quickly then pulled a crystal out of nowhere and tossed it to him. He caught it flawlessly and waved one last time before pulling himself inside the cabin.

"What's that in your hand?" one of the other children asked him curiously.

"Just a present from my Mom," he answered truthfully. They didn't need to know the half dark, half light crystal was a communication device.

Smiling at his improving cunning, he sat back into his seat and pocketed the gift. He seemed to be the only calm person in the compartment as the others were also first years and therefore highly excited.

Tony, however, merely let his wand dance across his fingers as he settled in for the long wait. He had never been good with sitting still, something he had no doubt picked up from both of his parents. He lasted only twenty minutes before he rose and left the cabin to explore.

There were a lot of students at this school. It was his mission to meet them all.

* * *


	3. Second Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.  
_**Author's Plea:**_ Enjoy if you can.

_**Edited:**_ 10.27.05 -- Canon accuracy, grammar, and general idiocy.

* * *

**Second Chapter: A Future in Politics**

By the time the Hogwarts Express had come to a stop at the Hogsmeade Station, Tony Williams had already gone through a good percentage of the compartments. With his easy smile and open manner, he was quickly becoming a favorite among the upper classmen.

The Ravenclaws commented on how smart it was for him to make so many friends that would be useful for study groups. The Hufflepuffs believed him to have great potential for loyalty and dependability. The Gryffindors were proud of the bravery the first year showed. It was only the Slytherins who saw in him a young upstart who was bound to sneak his way into usurping their powerful positions. With them, he graciously acknowledged his humble beginnings and comforted their egos with some very well timed self deprecating comments.

For his first large scale, honest attempt to schmooze effectively with people who were unaware of his status, he had to admit that it went amazingly well. The Malfoy son had been a bit troublesome. Despite his grand efforts, Draco still seemed to view him as a threat. How unconfident of his position would he have to be in order to be wary of an eleven year old? Still, with the amount of power Draco wielded as Head Boy and Student Leader of Slytherin, it would be necessary to start the overtures of friendship and harmlessness in earnest. Otherwise, the blond was not much of a challenge.

However, he was a bit worried about a girl in one of the last compartments he had visited. It had been full of upperclassmen, all Gryffindors, all friends since the beginning, and apparently, all famous for their part in the defeat of the Voldemort guy. They had been most difficult to deal with, even harder than the suspicious Slytherins, as they expected accolade and yet did not want it, were wary of newcomers, and were wiser than a good deal of the others.

However, with his youth, small stature even for his age, and a very well done shy yet confident smile, he had been un-intimidating enough for the young men to feel at ease. His good looks and charm more than appeased the young women, except for one. The brunette with bushy hair, set chin, and calculating eyes simply refused to meet his mismatched gaze. It seemed she was already aware of the spell his eyes could cast, and that was one reason to be careful with his actions around her. He could sense she could be great for collaborating with, but he would have to tread lightly. Most likely, she was already looking for signs of dishonesty and maliciousness.

Well, at least this would prove to be a challenge. He joined the rest of his year as they gathered around a loud burly man that was most obviously a half-giant. By the time the group reached a group of boats by a large lake, Hagrid was also under the spell of the charismatic youngster, though later the man would be hard pressed to remember much of what was said.

By the time he reached the holding area where the first years awaited their sorting, he was feeling mighty high. All of the newcomers were trailing in his confident wake as he led the way behind Professor McGonagall into the Great Hall. As his classmates gaped at the beautiful ceiling, he barely spared it a glance. Instead, he had his attention drawn to the High Table as he surreptitiously studied those who would be his superiors. A few looked as if they would be particularly easy to get on their good sides. A few others, particularly the stern woman he was following and a dark, sneering man at the table, looked a bit more difficult. The old man who he guessed to be the Headmaster looked as if he knew exactly what Tony was doing. Meeting the man's twinkling blue eyes, Tony smiled secretively which the man answered with a quick knowing wink.

The wait for his turn to sit under the obnoxious hat was long as parents had deemed the school safe enough this year for their children and almost none were sent to other institutions. When Williams, Antonius was finally called, he went forth and sat on the stool stately as the hat was settled over his head and came to rest on his nose. There was a pause before the students sitting at the front of the tables swore they saw a particularly devilish grin from the young boy that looked out of sorts with the hat covering the rest of his face. Thus it was no surprise to those close by when the hat called out "Slytherin!"

However, the Slytherins, particularly the elder ones with their leader, the very same blond boy he had spoken to on the platform back in London, were looking a bit disconcerted. Some even mumbled that with the low number of Slytherins left after the war, the hat was scraping the bottom of the barrel to give their House any following. Those who had already been affected by Tony's undeniable charisma were congratulating him even as they plotted ways to get him involved in their schemes.

Across the Great Hall, at the Gryffindor table, a bushy haired girl frowned as her Suspicious Persons Alarm went into Phase 2.

"I can't believe that Tony fellow was sorted into Slytherin," Ron stated conversationally as he heaped his plate full. "He seemed nice enough."

"He did say he grew up in the Colonies," Harry added as he pushed his glasses back up on his nose. "Maybe pureblooded families are different there."

"He isn't pureblood," Hermione said resolutely, minutely happy when her friends paused in their eating long enough to give her dubious looks.

"He's in Slytherin. He has to be pureblood," Ron reasoned.

"Unless he is lying about his name, he isn't pureblooded. I did a project last year for History of Magic about the pureblood families in America. There has never been a pureblooded family by the name of Williams either here or there. At the very least, he's a half-blood."

"That can't be right! Just look at the boy! Nice as he is, he's already acting like a true Slytherin."

"I didn't say he couldn't be a true Slytherin, Ron. I merely said that he isn't a pureblood."

And sure enough, Tony was sporting a devious smile as he and several younger Slytherins huddled together with all the obvious indications of Plotting.

"It's just not right, I say. The other Slytherins aren't bugging him. He looks to be mates with half of them already."

"Look at Malfoy, Ron," Harry spoke up. "He doesn't seem pleased. It's the first time he hasn't been giving me that glare since our first year."

They all turned their eyes to Draco who was indeed giving the first year a sneering glare that bespoke of his intense hatred for the youth.

"How can he hate him that much already?" Ron questioned.

"I don't know, but just don't stare too much at Tony, especially not in his eyes," Hermione stated with authority.

"Why?"

"Eyes like that are known to be hypnotic. I'm going to look into it tomorrow."

"Is there anything you don't know?" the red head asked before he crammed a large spoonful of potatoes into his mouth, followed by a fork-load of meat.

"Of course there is."

And with that, the conversation seemed to end in favor of dinner. However, a few minutes later, Harry looked up from his plate to give the new boy another glance.

"I do know one thing," he said slowly. "We are going to need to be good otherwise Slytherin will win the House Cup this year."

* * *

That night, after the students were secured in bed, a quick staff meeting was called. As the teachers took their regular seats, Dumbledore smiled benignly. 

"Another year at Hogwarts for us all, and without the threat of Voldemort. Still, it is best to keep our eyes open to any new threats." After making eye contact with all the professors, he continued in a happier tone. "Are there any questions?"

And so the staff meeting progressed until the new Defense professor asked a question most everyone had been dying to ask.

"As prejudiced as this sounds, how is it that a non pureblood was received into Slytherin?"

"Ah, you are speaking of the bright Mister Williams. Yes, it is odd, but I am sure you will find that his personality more than makes up for his lack of family history."

"He is Muggle-born then?" McGonagall asked with no small amount of surprise. She had assumed the rumors to be false regarding the precocious child's upbringing.

"It is safe to say that while he is on record as being Muggle-born, he is more truly half-blooded. However, even that is questionable. Mister Williams has asked that his parents be welcomed to the first Quidditch game and I am of the mind to allow it, if only so that everyone will gain more of an understanding as to his circumstances."

"What aren't you telling us, Albus?" Madam Pince questioned shrewdly.

"Nothing that is necessary. Though I must warn you, be honest with yourselves on his performance. You will be wont to award him."

Pondering this strange information, the staff gradually filed out of the room until only the Headmaster and the Head of Slytherin remained.

"Do not worry over his safety, Severus," Dumbledore said lightly.

"His ancestry will be discovered by the students eventually. As of now, his Muggle heritage is only hearsay. Malfoy will not waste time in verifying it."

The Headmaster merely nodded with a grin as he searched his robe pocket for an elusive Lemon Drop.

"I wouldn't worry for Mr. Williams. Though perhaps, you should worry for Mr. Malfoy."

Without another word, Dumbledore walked stately out of the room, leaving a confused Potions Professor behind.

* * *


	4. Third Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.  
**_Author's Rant:_** I'll admit it. I've been influenced. A great deal. By anime. In fact, I was into anime long before _Harry Potter_. As for my influences, I drew upon the wonderful animes of _Magical Shopping Arcade Abenobashi_ and the great, the crazy _FLCL_ when dealing with the characterization for Tony.  
Jareth and Sarah will play moderate roles, just not quite yet. Patience, grasshopper.  
As I previously warned, this is a highly experimental story for me, on several grounds. My having an OC will no doubt diminish the following for this story. In fact, I fully expect there not to be any. But should you choose to stay and read, I do appreciate it.  
I'm rambling...and I'm tired. In that good way, but still...  
Enjoy if you can.

_**Edited:**_ 10.27.05 -- Canon accuracy, grammar, and assorted idiocy

* * *

**Third Chapter: Troublesome People**

Two weeks into the school year, several records had already been broken. Most of them were in some way connected to one Antonius Williams.

"I'm only saying, Albus, that it is mighty suspicious," Minerva spoke to him under her breath at dinner one night. "He's accumulated more points in two weeks than Miss Granger. I had thought that impossible."

"The staff was warned such a thing might occur. I see no reason to be worried over his progress."

"There is something off about that boy that you are keeping from us."

"If you wish to know more about him, why not speak with him?"

"I would but I am wary of looking at him."

Professor McGonagall would later swear that the Headmaster's eyes twinkled even brighter.

"And why would that be?"

"I overheard Miss Granger warning Misters Potter and Weasley about his eyes."

"Ah, so my assumptions were correct."

"Albus…"

"It is nothing, Minerva. You will notice that Mr. Williams is amiable with most everyone…with the exception of Miss Granger and her friends as well as Mr. Malfoy and his companions. While I understood Mr. Malfoy's reasons, I was curious as to Miss Granger's friends. I wasn't certain if she would note the pattern before she fell victim to it, but I can see that she is indeed the brightest witch of her age."

"So she was correct in saying his eyes give everyone an inclination toward friendliness?"

"Yes, she was most correct, though there are some other accompaniments she may be unaware of."

"Your warning is finally becoming clear. You knew the other professors would likely fall prey to his…ability."

"He has been sworn not to make conscious use of his power without just cause. Any favor given to him is through natural means. He is quite the charming child."

Professor McGonagall could merely draw her lips into a harsh line as she turned over this new information. As it had been some time since the last time she had researched, she knew she would have to take Miss Granger's example and search the library for more information. After all, it was best to be prepared.

* * *

Hermione Granger was not amused. 

She had mentioned offhand in a General Meeting that flying classes that extended beyond the first year would be nice. As she had never quite grown accustomed to broom flight, she would find it quite beneficial and knew a few others who would be grateful for the extra help. Madam Hooch had been positively radiant at the idea. As it had turned out, the Flying Instructor and Quidditch coach had been vying for years to add Remedial and Advanced Flight to the curriculum. Hermione's words had only strengthened her position.

However, there simply wasn't the time to have several new classes added so, in an effort to compromise, it was determined that Flying would be extended into a double period with first years only for the first half while older students would be welcomed to join for the second. As it had been Hermione's comment that brought the change into being, she was required to participate and help Madam Hooch with organization.

It wasn't that she did not appreciate that her words had been taken seriously or even that she did not have the time to do such that made her sigh with frustration. It was simply that she was now scheduled to be helping with one of the few subjects she wasn't the best in. In fact, her flying skills were downright laughable. A week of private practice with Madam Hooch left her capable but it still wasn't pretty.

So it was that she arrived at the end of the first half of Broom Flight with determined though weary shoulders. The sight that greeted her was one that would be sketched into her mind forever.

Tony Williams, the latest Boy Wonder and the Slytherin whom had beaten her records of 'Most Points Awarded' in the Day, Week, and Two Week categories, was hanging onto his borrowed broom for dear life… from a height of a mereten feet off the ground. Realization hit her like the Knight Bus.

Slytherin's new Prince was afraid of heights.

She wanted to laugh. It was rude and mean and downright nasty. Had Ron or Harry been there, she would have reprimanded them for laughing. And she still wanted to laugh.

But, seriously, the child was torture. He had half the school wrapped around his little finger. It was so bad, Hermione was sure she'd never seen Professor Snape looking so positively enthused, not that she could blame him had she been in the same position. Tony Williams made being a Slytherin acceptable again.

Still, as much as it bothered her that he had an unfair advantage over the rest, as much as she wanted to laugh at his misfortune, she simply could not. Instead, after a slight hesitation, she approached, pulling her wand out as she did.

However, she never got the chance to cast any spells as the school broom, sensing the lacking confidence in its rider, chose that moment to buck, sending the young Slytherin downward and straight onto Hermione.

As accustomed as she was to scrapes and trouble from her experiences with Harry and during the War, it still hurt to have an eleven year old boy land on her.

And, as luck would have it, that happened to be the very instant that Malfoy was walking by, for whatever reason, and spotted the pile that was Tony and Hermione.

"Granger, really, are you truly so desperate?"

She wanted to hit him, really she did. Or maybe provoke him enough so he would admit his true allies in the war. Anything to make Draco Malfoy go away and leave her last year at Hogwarts in peace.

But something stopped her, kept her from hauling herself up and doing what her sense of justice ached to do. There was a boy on top of her and he was undoubtedly crying. His sobs were quiet, a step past sniffling, and, as he rolled to the side, he was cradling his left arm. Her Head Girl attitude kicked in immediately and she moved to where she could examine his injury even as she called out for someone to fetch help.

"Are you hurt?"

"My…my arm…"

Sure enough, despite the shortness of the fall, he had landed so perfectly that his arm had indeed broken. Grabbing her wand from where it had fallen, she performed a few small charms to lessen the pain until he got to Madam Pomfrey.

"Come now, let's get you to the nurse," she said in soothing tones as she helped him up and began leading him back towards the castle.

"Can she fix it?" he sniffled.

"Of course she can. She can fix most anything. She'll have you better in no time."

"But…it hurts…"

Perhaps she was only jaded, but she didn't think she had heard anyone so pitiful since Draco Malfoy was (justly) attacked by the hippogriff. Of course, at least this was a real injury and Tony didn't seem to be pretending to be in more pain than he was. Rather, it seemed as if the boy had no experience with physical pain.

"Oh, it's not so bad, really. Just a scrape on the knee compared to what happens during Quidditch games."

"I don't scrape my knees."

"Sure you have."

"No, I haven't," he insisted.

"Stubbed your toe then? Tripped? Hit a door? Smashed your funny bone?"

"No, never."

"How could a boy your age go without injuring himself?" she asked with a bit of exasperation.

A knowing grin slowly, seamlessly replaced the pained look on his face.

"At home, no one would dare let me be hurt. Dad would never allow it."

She had nothing to say to that. On one hand, it sounded so pretentiously Slytherin, it was just about right. On the other, there was most definitely something off with the statement.

As she was gathering her thoughts for a reply, she arrived at the Hospital Wing just in time for one of the students that regularly came to her Study Sessions to run into her.

"Hermione! I was looking for you before that curse hit me…I have Quidditch trials and can't make the regular time. Do you have time to go over the Potions readings with me earlier today?" the younger Hufflepuff asked with wide pleading eyes.

"We can go over my schedule once I get him settled," she answered as she led Tony to the bed Madam Pomfrey directed her towards. As the nurse performed the necessary spells to reconnect the bones, he turned curious eyes toward his 'savior'.

"Do you have Study Sessions for every year?"

She was hard pressed to avoid meeting his mismatched gaze and only nodded.

"I did not know."

"That's probably due to your house. I'm afraid I could never get Slytherin to participate. The flyers I post in all the common rooms always seem to disappear before the first day ends. Of course, anyone is welcome. I help first years on Tuesdays and Thursdays atfour in the afternoon if you are interested."

He merely smiled with all the charm he could muster. She still averted her eyes.

Turning, Hermione bid him good luck, Madam Pomfrey good day, and proceeded out of the wing, trailed by the anxious Hufflepuff.

Told his healing was completed and that he should rest before dinner, Tony lay on the little bed and thought of the seventh year Gryffindor. What a difficult one she was by refusing to allow him his advantage! It seemed if he was to continue with his plan of befriending the school, in preparation for his political future, he would have to find another means of persuasion.

The study group showed possibilities. In fact, the study group was an excellent idea!

As he deemed that problem solved, he turned his attention to those two subjects that so frequently fill the minds of young boys: dinner and homework.

* * *


	5. Fourth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

_**Edited:**_ 10.27.05 -- Canon accuracy, grammar, and general idiocy.

* * *

**Fourth Chapter: The Beliefs of Puzzle Masters **

How the owl found its way into the Underground, Sarah Williams would never know. She figured it was just an owl thing and suspected Jareth had more than a little to do with it.

Tony's first letter had consisted merely of a short update and list of classes. This one was practically weighing down the poor bird it was attached to.

The opening foot of her son's letter consisted of more detailed information about his classes and what all he had already learned. The next foot regaled her on his efforts to win over his classmates which were highly successful so far. A half foot following that was his description of a boy who was most obviously plotting against him. Sarah immediately recognized the name as that of the blond duo from the platform.

And then, most unusually, Tony waxed into a foot long description/rant about a girl.

She had not expected this. She had not expected this at all. She had figured she would get to wait another few years before her little boy took interest in girls.

Of course, this wasn't exactly the type of interest a teenage boy showed. If anything, the frustration she could read betwixt the lines reminded her of his father. In fact, it was almost exactly like Jareth.

"Your son is becoming more like you by the day," she stated with good humor. The Goblin King looked up from the scroll he had been perusing.

"What makes you say that, my dear?"

"Well, first, he's trying to gain control of the entire school."

"I see nothing amiss with that."

"And second, he's interested in a girl who refuses him."

Of course, that statement immediately keyed the king's curiosity.

"Is that so…"

"Listen to this: _She's just so annoying, Mom. She won't look at me because I think she knows about my eyes. I thought she might try to trick me like Draco, but I don't think so anymore. When I fell off my broom and hurt my arm, she was real nice about it. Malfoy laughed at me but she helped me up and took me to the nurse. I don't understand her and it makes me want to study her instead of class. Are all girls so weird? Were you that weird to Dad?_"

"Antonius was hurt? Why was I not informed?"

"He was fine, Jareth. It was taken care of. Really, we sent him to that school so he could be a normal boy for once. He can't do that if you keep protecting him from everything."

The king still frowned, buthe shook his head in grudging agreement before his face once more took on a considering expression.

"My my my…so my son is quite the charmer…"

"Were you listening? She's not interested! In fact, he said she's a seventh year, so that means she's at least 17. I don't think it's like that at all."

"Sarah, you cannot understand the complexities of the mind of a Labyrinth Master and his progeny. We are drawn to puzzles. We become… obsessed with solving problems. It's why we make such excellent rulers."

"Really…" she drawled with mock belief.

"You should not discount my words, little girl. Of all the women that I have allowed to run the Labyrinth, why was it you that I refused to let go completely? I can assure you, it was not your sparkling personality."

"Like you are one to talk, Mister High and Mighty. So I was a puzzle?"

"You were so much more than a puzzle, my dear. You, Sarah, were an enigma, a nuisance. In short, you were interesting."

"Were? Am I not interesting now?"

"No. You are much more than interesting now."

During his speech on the inclinations of Puzzle Masters, the king had gotten up and paced. Now he approached his elusive Lady and pulled her forward until she was trapped by his mismatched gaze.

"Now, you are _mine_," he stated resolutely before he snapped his fingers, sending them both to the Royal Bedroom.

He completely missed her knowing smirk.

'_His am I_?' she thought as she allowed him access to her neck. _'I think he forgets that he is mine as well. It's all in the contract.'_

* * *

When Hermione showed up for her next regularly scheduled first year study session, she was beyond shocked. 

The past two sessions, attendance had reached seven students: four from Gryffindor, two Hufflepuffs and a lone Ravenclaw. Today, those seven were still there but were huddled on one side of the room sending suspicious glances over at the new Slytherins.

She had expected Tony to take interest in the study group. In fact, she had counted on it as he seemed determined to gain her friendship, for whatever reason.

However, she had not considered that he would bring the entire Slytherin first year with him. Ten students in total, they outnumbered her regulars and made her more than a little wary of how much this was going to cut out of her own study time. Still, her sense of honor prevented her from sending any of them away. She could only hope they were not the younger equivalents of Crabbe and Goyle.

As it turned out, she had little to fuss over. Once she went over their lessons from the week once, Tony understood well enough to explain it to the others in his House, only summoning her help when a student was having a particularly difficult time grasping the concept. When it was time to head to the Great Hall for dinner, all seventeen students were effectively caught up with their studies. She felt so high with a sense of accomplishment as she strode down to the Hall that she almost failed to notice the young Slytherin falling into step beside her.

"How do you do that?" he asked with half incredulity and half curiosity.

"What? Tutor?"

"Of course."

"I don't know. After participating in a war and helping Harry get through his classes, tutoring is nothing."

"But… there are so many of them… and some of them lack the sense of a walnut!"

"Don't say that. Really, all it takes is a bit of patience. I'm proud of all the students I tutor. Even if they aren't as accomplished as some of their classmates, it shows a lot for their character that they are willing to put forth the extra effort by attending my sessions."

"But they didn't even say thank you!"

"And? Despite what you may have heard, Gryffindors are not Glory Seekers."

"That's not what Draco says. He says all Gryffindors only show their supposed bravery when they can get something out of it."

"Yes, well, Malfoy says a lot of things. There's Harry and Ron. Good evening."

She began walking passed the Slytherin table en route to the far end of the Hall and Gryffindor table when the boy called out for her to stop.

"Hermione… thank you."

It sounded so honest, so innocent, that she really wanted to acknowledge him properly. However, the threat his eyes posed held her back.

"You're welcome, Tony."

Seeing her distant gaze, he frowned.

"Why won't you look at me?" he finally asked with exasperation.

"Because I know better."

"My eyes? I can't control it, you know."

"I somehow doubt that. But it's nothing against you. It's… I'd rather decide for myself what kind of person you are without being told so by the spell of your eyes."

His frown faded slowly into a contemplative look before shifting further into a grin.

"I can respect that," he said at last. "Thank you again, Hermione. Good evening."

And without another word, he turned and went to take his seat at the table. Smiling softly to herself, Hermione turned to do the same. As soon as she reached usual spot, Harry and Ron swarmed on her.

"Was that that Slytherin kid?" Ron asked pointedly.

"Yes."

"What were you talking to him for?"

"He somehow convinced the entire Slytherin first year to attend my study session. And then he thanked me," she told them plainly.

"Really? How in the name of Merlin did he do that?"

"I do not know. Perhaps the lure of well done homework was enough for them."

"Doubtful," Harry stated. "He is plotting something."

"Of course he is," she responded as the food arrived. "But I don't think he has quite the same world domination goal as the other Slytherins."

"What do you mean?" Ron said through a mouthful of some unknown casserole.

"He acts as if he has the world on a string waiting for him somewhere else, and all this is just practice," she responded thoughtfully.

"I think you are giving him too much credit," Harry said back with a wry grin.

She merely swatted his arm and began to eat, unaware of how very right she was.

* * *


	6. Fifth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

**Fifth Chapter: The Introduction of the Media **

It took until the middle of October for Draco's efforts in verifying Antonius' Muggle roots to bear fruit. While he had his father working within the Ministry to obtain the correct records, Draco himself had borrowed Hermione and McGonagall's idea and researched the peculiarities of mismatched eyes. When he had compiled enough fact and speculation to make a decent case, he submitted it to a regular reporter from the _Daily Prophet_, who was able to write a short article on why Tony should not be allowed to attend Hogwarts.

The story, printed on page 3 of the Friday edition the second week of October, had quite the effect. While the upper-class Slytherins found verification of his Muggleness offensive, the article had made several interesting speculations. In the end, it was the Gryffindors that began to grow more wary of the boy.

The writer, against Draco's intentions, had used the probability of Tony being a Half-blood, his position in Slytherin, and his popularity to draw many parallels between him and the deceased Tom Riddle. In a postwar society that was on guard for signs of the next Dark Lord, it was quite the sensation. The mystery of his father, whose name had been omitted from the birth records, only fueled the speculation. The now widely known information regarding his hypnotic eyes made him all the more dangerous. Many students who had previously treated Tony like their best mate were now sending him suspicious glances.

Tony tried to act as if nothing was wrong for the first few days until he got fed up with his lack of progress. Even the oldest Slytherins were looking at him in a new light, possibly wondering at the likelihood of their serving him in the future. The only people treating him the same as before were the elder Gryffindors who had always been cautious to begin with.

At his First Year Study Session with Hermione the following Tuesday, he noticed an obviousdrop in attendance. Only three of the Slytherins had chosen to attend and they were all making it very obvious they preferred a Gryffindor Head Girl's help to his. Needing someone to rant to whom had more than a little bit of sense, he stayed after the session ended and helped Hermione gather her belongings.

"I just don't get how they can believe that rubbish," he said with a pout.

"It's not all rubbish," she returned honestly.

"Well, yeah, but all that Evil Lord stuff is. As if I'd take over the world just to mess it up…"

"I think you are missing the point."

"Still, I don't like it."

"The _Daily Prophet_ is nothing more than a rag. Just remember that and deal accordingly. If you fight it too much, they'll only make you look worse. Trust me."

"Did they do that to you?"

"My fourth year they speculated on my relationship with Harry and made me out to be a scarlet woman. Or maybe that was the other magazine…Regardless, it didn't help me any."

"That's not right."

"No, it isn't. But that's the way it is."

Tony paused in thought, wondering where he had heard a similar turn of phrase before. His mother perhaps? He frowned again.

"I just don't like what they said about my mom. Saying all those nasty things about why she won't say who my dad is…Everyone who needs to know does and the rest…well, it is none of their business."

"Why is it such a mystery?"

"Because if they knew, I wouldn't be able to all I do now. I heard Draco talking about when Harry first came to Hogwarts. I guess my parents are worried I will go through that."

"He's really that important, is he?"

"Of course."

"I suppose you inherited your eyes from him?"

"Yes. Except the green one is mom's. Dad has a brown one."

"So that would make him…Fae?"

"Why do you say that?" His innocent tone and blank face were just a bit too perfect. She could plainly see she had hit on something important.

"A book."

"Oh."

The discussion degraded into silence as Hermione finished shrinking everything back into her pack. Turning to look curiously at the brown headed boy, she decided now was not the time to bother him about answering the question regarding his heredity. No, now was more of a time to do her position as Head Girl right.

With a sigh, she sat down and pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill.

"If you want, I can help you write a letter in response to the article. We've found it has some success in dealing with the _Prophet_."

Amazed that she would help him despite it all, he turned wide eyes to her.

"Really?"

"Sure. Let's just hurry. If I miss dinner again, Harry will suspect I'm helping you plot to take over the world."

"He's mighty suspicious, that one."

"Well, after all he's been through, I cannot blame him."

"He will make a great Auror from what I hear."

"Yes, that's about the only thing I think he could do now."

* * *

_Dear Sirs and Madams, _

_I write in response to your article of October 11th entitled 'The Newest Evil: Who is Antonius Williams?' _

_My name is Antonius Jareth Williams and I must say that I found the article to be offensive and full of incorrect knowledge. You would do best to fully research your sources before printing such libel._

_I fail to see how you could reasonably speculate on my character without having met me. As for your supposed parallels between me and Tom Riddle, allow me to add my own comment._

_**1.** I am not a Half-blood. My mother, as per record is Muggle, as far as I am aware. __My father is not a wizard, nor does he have any connections with the Wizarding world. He was unaware of its existence until I was informed of it on my 11th birthday. I believe everyone can see that I do not qualify as a Half-blood._

_**2. **I was placed in Slytherin. Had you actually met me before writing such an article, you might understand why. Even though I suspected as much when I first was informed of the House system, you had best ask the Hat as to specific reasons for my placement. Tom Riddle, also known as Lord Voldemort, was also a Slytherin. However, I fail to see  
how that instantly connects anything. Using the same logic, I could say that, for example, Draco Malfoy was set to become the next Evil Wizard because he was in Slytherin. As you can see, ridiculous logic._

_**3.** I am popular. Is that such a crime? I fail to see how that proves my 'dawning evilness.' To base an accusation of the magnitude that you have cast upon me on the number of friends of an eleven year old boy is absolutely silly. _

_My mother's reasons for keeping the identity of my father secret are our own and intended for instances such as these. No offense intended, but it is not the business of your readership who my father happens to be._

_As for my eyes, I cannot refute that I do have a limited gift to inspire friendly feelings in others. However, the effects are generally weak and I believe my popularity is due more to my open personality than the colors of my eyes. In response to the worry from the parents of other students that my ability will give me an unfair advantage over other students, I can only submit that Headmaster Dumbledore has been aware since the beginning and made me sign a Wizard's Oath against unfounded use of my gift. If my marks are better than that of other students, that may be because I attend extra study sessions twice a week and spend countless hours doing revision each week. Therefore, I see no cause for apprehension._

_I would appreciate it, on behalf of myself and my family, that you put a stop to these unfounded accusations that wound innocent people. _

_Sincerely,_

_Antonius 'Tony' Williams_

* * *

Ron put down his copy of Thursday's _Prophet_ after having read the article aloud. 

"What do you think of that?" he asked his famous friend.

"I think that letter is a bit too perfect to be written entirely by an eleven year old," Harry responded with quiet authority. Ron could easily see the suspicious glint in his eyes.

"But who?" he asked incredulously.

"Who else would think to respond to a harassing article in the Prophet with a letter?" he led effectively.

"Hermione…"

* * *

"Jareth?" 

"What now?"

"You should see this," Sarah said with worry as she passed the large bundle of newspaper and parchment to him. She waited with baited breath as he read through Tony's latest update.

"The Bog isn't harsh enough for the scum who did this to my boy."

"Calm down. Anger will get you no where. Remember what happened with the census taker? Remember how little good the oubliette did him?"

"Nonsense. He simply wasn't down there for long enough."

She sighed, closed her eyes, and counted backwards from ten. It was a well practiced routine. After all, sharing her life with an exasperating man like Jareth meant she was bound to have more than her share of headaches.

"Jareth, think about this for a second. They think Tony is some sort of Dark Lord in training. But what they don't know is that we are visiting him in a few weeks. Think of what we could do at this very public meeting that would throw their entire theory out."

He thought for a long moment before a sinister grin spread across his pale face.

"Of course. They will never see it coming."

* * *


	7. Sixth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.  
**_Author's Plea: _**Worry not. While, as you may have guessed, the story involves Tony having a crush on Hermione, it will never be anything other than an innocent little crush. After having experienced such a thing from both ends (_at 10, I was completely enamored with my older brother's friend, and at 19, a classmate of my youngest cousin asked if he could marry me_), I don't really think its too terrible or wrong. I warned you earlier that I was experimenting with characterization. I think trying to make his little crush realistic without turning away readers will be difficult and a worthy challenge.  
Eh...Enjoy if you can.

**Sixth Chapter: Snooping and Sneaking **

The portrait of the Fat Lady swung open to show…nothingness. Ron ignored the oddness of it and merely motioned towards the boys' dormitory. Once they were safely behind the bed curtains, Harry removed his Invisibility Cloak.

"So?" Ron whispered fervently. "What did you find out?"

"I followed him and watched him during the study session. He is a smart bloke, but I still think Hermione helped him on that letter. He assisted during the lesson, then helped her clean up."

"So she is helping him plot world domination?"

"Were you listening?" Harry asked with exasperation. Really, as suspicious as he was, even he wasn't so stupid. "She was…herself. She helped out everyone and didn't seem to treat him much differently than everyone else."

"Oh."

"But, I did see one thing," the Boy Wonder said with a wicked smile. "I think the kid might have a crush on our Hermione."

"What!"

"He was watching her the whole time. Would run to her for her opinion for every little thing. He's either really sneaky, or he fancies her."

"Ewwww! But Harry…he's eleven!"

"Bloody hell, Ron, I never said it like that. Merlin, didn't you ever have a ridiculous crush when you were a boy?"

"No."

Harry snorted before continuing.

"Listen, I did see another odd thing after he left."

"What's that?"

"At dinner in the Great Hall, I kept against the wall and watched him. I almost didn't notice it."

"What!"

"He gets…extra food. Extra desserts. At first I thought perhaps it was just the Slytherin table, but no. It only appears next to him."

"That's off."

"I know. Do you think he has a pact with the house elves?"

"We could ask Dobby."

"Come on. It's still early. We can get down there before curfew if we hurry."

* * *

Tony read through the letter once, twice, and then a third time, just to be certain. 

Yep, his parents were most definitely visiting him during the first Quidditch game. Of course, he had known that. What surprised him was that it had been decided exactly how they would visit. Instead of the 'slightly odd but ordinary parents' routine that he was accustomed too, they were going into what his mom had jokingly named Code Orange.

Code Orange was serious business. While he could get away with very little effort when they played ordinary parents, Code Orange meant he needed to take care of certain matters. With a sigh, he decided it was probably best to start with the biggest issue first.

Snapping his fingers summoned enough of his father's unique brand of magic to signal a house elf. Looking longingly at his fingers, he thought fondly of the day he would finally be able to snap and swish wandlessly with as much ease as his dad.

When he turned his attention away from his fingers, he saw that instead of signaling a house elf, several of the creatures had answered his call. They surrounded him, all groveling.

"Hush, hush, now! I need to talk to all the house elves. Can you take me there?"

Sure enough, they could. Sneaking through the halls, they led him up one level and onward to the kitchens. As soon as he stepped through the portrait, he found himself surrounded by countless more elves that immediately beseeched him to stay, eat, and allow them to assist.

"Listen," he said as he sat on a stool in front of one of the long tables, absently stirring the cup of tea he had been given. "I know you know who I am."

"Of course, Master Tony. The elves know you are son to He Who Kicks Goblins."

The hand stirring his tea stopped dead as he tried to compute that statement.

"He Who Kicks Goblins?" he asked at last, hoping he had heard incorrectly.

"Yes, Master Tony. The elves know! He Who Kicks Goblins is a hero to the elves!"

There were choruses of agreement as Tony tried to get his mind wrapped around this rather difficult concept.

"You call dad, my dad, the Goblin King…He Who Kicks Goblins?"

"Yes, Master Tony! Goblins were so nasty to the elves back when, before His Majesty. He Who Kicks Goblins saved the elves, he did!"

"I see…" He didn't, but it felt better to say that. It was good enough that they held his father in such high esteem, even if it was only for his penchant for abusing his subjects. Perhaps it would be best not to mention his mom's efforts to stop the hobby.

"Okay," he continued onward. "Dad is coming to Hogwarts soon. In two weeks, at the first Quidditch game. But no one who doesn't know must know who he really is. Do you understand?"

"His Majesty is coming to Hogwarts! He Who Kicks Goblins will be here!"

It took a good ten minutes for Tony to effectively calm the house elves enough to be able to speak again.

"This is exactly what you cannot do! If you do this, or make him out to be anything other than a normal person, they will know! And they mustn't know!"

"But we live to serve He Who Kicks Goblins! The elves must do their duty, Master Tony!"

Seeing this argument was not going to do anything, Tony decided it was time to do what his father would do. Luckily, he had witnessed it enough times to copy.

"As Prince of the Labyrinth Kingdom, I demand that you obey my word! Your duty has changed! You must not serve my dad other than a normal person! It is the word of the Son of He Who Kicks Goblins!"

It was over the top and was making his Slytherin sensibilities smart something awful, but it seemed they had gotten the message. They all turned their big watering eyes on him in awe of his magnificence before rushing once more to serve him.

It was with utmost intelligence that Tony decided it best to bring up the subject of their treatment of him later. For now, it was enough that they were sworn to fulfill their part in his dad's visit.

* * *

"Harry, wait! The portrait is opening!" 

Sure enough, a short ways down the deserted corridor, the portrait of fruit was opening and a small, heavily laden figure was emerging from the kitchens.

Creeping closer under the cloak, the young men were greeted to the sight of dozens of house elves crowded at the portrait, adding more desserts and treats to the pile the person already had even as he attempted to leave.

Of course, that was a fairly normal sight. The bothersome part about it was that the elves were calling out "Master Tony!" and something about kicking goblins. It was curious to say the least, and they were lucky to have stumbled across proof positive that the young Slytherin had some agreement with the elves.

Finally, when it looked as if the boy couldn't take any more and was in serious risk of toppling over from the sheer weight, he turned to the huddled servants and said, quite simply, "Well? Leave!"

And they hurried to do so.

Exchanging glances, Harry and Ron wondered exactly what power the kid held over the annoyingly helpful creatures. They decided to follow the boy as he headed back to the dungeons, leaving a trail of cakes and assorted sweets along the way. The two sneaks saw nothing wrong with accepting the bounty left behind. However, in the end, all they got out of the short walk was food and a few mumbled phrases that could have been anything between "Betwixt Goblins" and "King of Falling" and a few references to cold oranges.

In short, it was a very successful trip.

Once Tony disappeared into a stone wall that they remembered to be the opening to the Slytherin Common, they turned back, deciding against visiting the kitchens now while the elves were agitated. They scurried back quietly to Gryffindor tower, barely missing a patrolling Mrs. Norris.

"So what now?" Ron asked as they removed the cloak and spelled it back to its original size. They never had remembered to thank Hermione for finding the incantation that would enlarge the Invisibility Cloak to fit their almost adult bodies. Without it, it was doubtful they would have been able to use the implement.

"Well," Harry whispered. "First I think we should go to the library tomorrow." He ignored the instant slumping of Ron's shoulders. "The house elves kept repeating something about goblins. That should be the best place to start."

"This would be so much easier if Hermione were in on it," the red head sulked.

"Yes, but she cannot know. Who knows how far under his spell she already is? She already knows we suspect him."

A sigh was his only response. It was going to have to do.

* * *


	8. Seventh Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

**Seventh Chapter: The Truth About Honesty**

Tony's letter to the _Daily Prophet_ had assuaged some of the speculation surrounding him, but a good majority of the Slytherins, under the leadership of Draco, still gave him foul looks. In fact, even more of Tony's House had joined Draco's cause than before. After all, Tony had only refuted his possible future as an Evil Overlord. His Muggle background was still up for scoffing. While they were still slightly too worried to resort to full out "mudblood" insults, indirectly demeaning comments and glares were free.

But Draco couldn't seem to get over that his plot had not worked as he had intended. If anything, despite the scathing looks, Tony received even more respect. This simply wouldn't do. He had to find more dirt on him.

The first thing that Draco noticed as he surreptitiously stalked the kid was actually something right in front of him. Since the article came out, the quality of the food that appeared each meal near him dropped significantly. The rest of the table didn't seem affected. In fact, the food over at the crowd of First Years, closest to Tony, looked entirely too delicious to even be edible.

So the brat had ties with the elves, did he? Interesting…

His next piece of the puzzle came in one of the bi weekly letters from his father. While taking care of business at Gringott's, Malfoy Senior had casually requested information regarding the affairs of one Sarah Williams and her son.

"The goblins," the letter read, "instantly paled to become even more hideous than they already are. Even promising gracious donations failed to convince them to loosen their disgusting tongues. It took me a moment before I recognized the expression on their repulsive faces: fear, respect, and something of awe. It was the same expression the Dark Lord's followers had when they looked upon Him."

Now that was particularly intriguing information, but still, nothing he could use, really. No, to truly undermine the influence of the upstart, he would have to find some horribly embarrassing and completely unforgivable.

He found it in the behavior of the youth himself. While Draco had been aware of Tony's continued use of Granger's study sessions, going as far as to recommend them to the rest of the younger Slytherins, he hadn't known the kid was as close to her as he obviously was. Every Tuesday and Thursday, Tony helped Granger clean up after session and walked with her, chatting amiably, to the Great Hall.

As if that wasn't enough, the brat also greeted her each morning and afternoon, and any time he came across her in the halls. However, it still didn't click in Draco's conniving mind until he realized that half of those random passes in corridors were when Tony was supposed to be at entirely different parts of the castle. The boy was going out of his way to run into her, risking lateness to classes just so he could nonchalantly greet her.

It was most obvious to him then. For whatever reason, the boy was plotting something that required Granger's willing participation. Considering the ties the brat had with the house elves, it was all the more plausible. Were the two planning on staging a house elf coup? Or was it something even more serious?

Regardless of his plans, Draco knew he had to put a stop to it. There was no way a dirty little mudblood First Year was going to usurp power from him. Despite loosing the war and being under Ministry watch for suspicious behavior, the Malfoys were not beaten yet. No one, especially not this stupid little freaky eyed brat, was going to defeat a Malfoy.

But how could he break up their budding partnership against him? It only took a minute for the pointy chinned menace to come up with a plan. It was perfect and oh so simple.

They would never see it coming.

* * *

"Good morning, Hermione," Tony said cheerfully as he passed her just outside the Great Hall. 

"Good morning, Tony," she responded in kind with a smile before she turned her attention back to her path towards the Gryffindor table.

Tony wasn't even aware he was watching her until a voice near his ear gave him quite the fright.

"She's quite the girl."

Turning slightly, Tony acknowledged Draco's presence before once more watching Hermione as she took her seat at the mostly deserted breakfast table.

"Hmph," he muttered. "Quite true. There aren't many others that keep all their quills sorted by size and texture and have the entire list of restricted items memorized. Did you know she made me rewrite my Potions essay eight times the other night? The last one was because of an ink blot. She's crazy."

"If she's so crazy, then why can't you keep your eyes off of her?"

"What? Oh, well, she has her uses. I am best in my class right now because of her."

"I don't know. That really doesn't explain why you still haven't stopped looking at her…Mighty suspicious, I say," Draco drawled. "It almost looks like you might fancy her."

"Fancy her? You mean like her? That's silly!" The blushing cheeks were fuel for more accusation, though Draco never did take the time to decide if it was from embarrassment or anger.

"Not really. You spend extra time with her, you walk with her, talk with her, stare at her…really, it's so very obvious. You are in love with the mudblood."

"Don't call her that!" Tony demanded as he turned to face his smirking tormentor. Draco's eyes flashed in triumph. Really, this was easier than he had thought. Maybe the kid really did have a crush on Granger…

"Why not? It's what she is. It's what you are." He paused. "Of course, then you are perfect with each other. Wouldn't have to worry about either of you fouling up respectable bloodlines."

"SHUT UP!"

"So you aren't in love with her?"

"Of course not! But don't call her that!"

"You're protecting her mighty fiercely for someone you don't like…"

"I don't like her like that!"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure!"

"Well, why don't you prove it?"

If there was one thing Tony couldn't resist more than a puzzle, it was a challenge. After all, challenges were the foundations of puzzles. Hermione, puzzle though she was, was no match for Draco's challenge.

"Prove it? Why would I have to prove it? I don't like her!"

"Do you really want me to ask the others what their opinion is? Because the tables are filling up and there are plenty of people who would be interested."

"No! I mean, not necessary. I don't like her, really! She's nuts! And bossy! If it weren't for her, I'd still have my records for Most Points Earned. She keeps on deducting for silly things. I don't like her, really!"

"If you don't like her, then you won't see anything wrong with telling her how horrifically bossy she is. If you aren't in love with her, why don't you tell her the truth: that she's snotty and the only reason she has friends is because they need the grades?"

"But…that doesn't seem right…"

"You are a Slytherin! It's honest, isn't it? Is there anything more right than honesty? If she's only a friend as you say, then it won't mean anything. No harm between friends, right?"

"I guess…"

"Then what are you waiting for?"

"But…"

"Then again, if you don't want to, I can take a vote to see how many people agree with me."

"NO!...I'll do it. It's just honesty…Can't hurt that bad…" the boy mumbled as he walked stiffly toward the other side of the Great Hall where the girl in question sat, silently eating toast as she read through a massive tome.

"Hermione? Can I ask you something?" he asked kindly enough, getting her attention.

"What?"

"Do you have any friends?"

"Of course I do. Harry, Ron, Neville…"

"No, I mean friends that aren't sticking with you just so they can pass their classes."

There was a pause as the features of her face hardened slightly.

"What do you mean?" she asked in a tone that brooked no lack of response.

"Well, would they really be your friends if you weren't doing all their work for them? I mean, you are terribly bossy. Nosy, too. Nothing personal, of course, but really, do you think they stay by your side because of your personality?"

Now that he had started, this honesty thing wasn't so hard. At least, he thought so until he saw her expression. Chin set firmly, nostrils flaring with suppressed anger, eyes meeting his for the first time, she looked positively ready to throttle him.

"Hermione?"

"Don't," she began in a soft, venom laden tone belonging more to the surly Potions Master than the bossy bookworm. "Don't you dare. Five points off for insulting a student, five points off for that student being a Head, and another five for your unruly appearance. Now, get out of my sight."

Tony was dumbfounded. Could it be possible that the spirit of Professor Snape had inhabited her? No, that would require Professor Snape to be dead and he had just seen him outside the Slytherin common room.

"I said LEAVE!" she bellowed, immediately silencing all conversation within the Hall.

"But Hermione…"

She merely shook her head and walked from the room, head held high though anger and hurt was practically radiating from her body. Tony just stared in astonishment before a laugh back at his table captured his attention.

"That was great! Mudblood finally knows exactly what everyone thinks of her!" Draco laughed.

As comprehension filtered through his mind, Tony clutched his fists and frowned. However, an odd feeling in his palm caused him to momentarily loose his anger into his budding confusion.

Pulling his hand to study, he opened his fist and found a perfectly round sphere occupying the space. It was small, much smaller and weaker than his father's sort, but it was the first time he had ever been able to make one of his own instead of summoning one of his dad's. Jareth, in his infinite wisdom, had insured that that his Lady and Heir could access his magic at any time through a supply of pre-made crystals filling a dungeon room in the Goblin Castle. After all, granting them the ability to summon had been easy. Creation was so much more difficult. Creation required skill and power.

And creation, though limited and weak, was exactly what Tony had just done.

Without raising his head, he looked at Draco. Had Malfoy been paying attention instead of laughing, he might have been intimidated by the kid staring menacingly at him with mismatched eyes while one fist was practically trembling and the other clenching something to his chest.

It had all the signs of trouble and Draco didn't see a single one.

* * *


	9. Eighth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

**Eighth Chapter: Delicious Manipulation**

She didn't know why it hurt so much. Maybe it was that the kid had seemed so harmless even as he uttered those heart destroying words. Maybe it was because she'd already been feeling out of sorts with Harry and Ron ignoring her and sending her suspicious glances. What was that about, anyways…?

But, no, that wasn't it. Those were great reasons, but they were not the cause of her heartbreak.

It hurt because it was true. Her personality had never been one that attracted friends. Her friendship with the boys had only occurred after she had taken the fall for them. Throughout their school years, she had often been cast aside in favor of Quidditch, love interests, and revenge. It had always been a relationship of usefulness: they accepted her great plans and determination and they provided her with protection and backup. For every insult Draco threw at her, she could expect them to pay him back, even if they were unconcerned for her own feelings.

Still, knowing that and hearing that were different things. It had been a concept she had been struggling with her entire life and now, after the war when they were simultaneously closer and more distant, she was vulnerable. What had held them together before was gone and nothing new was building in its place.

"He's a just a kid," she muttered to herself while angrily rubbing her fists across her eyes. "He doesn't know anything. He doesn't know." The veracity of that statement was pointless, but it did make her feel better.

However, another thought gave her enough strength to wipe her tears off and grit her teeth with determination.

So he was only her friend to up his grade? Well, she had to put up with that for everyone else. Damned if she would do that for him.

* * *

Tony decided that matters dictated that he presently forgo his plan to befriend the entire school. No, this was much more serious. 

He wasn't sure why she had been so angry over his comments, but a talk with his Head of House had given him some idea.

"The insufferable know-it-all," the dark man had spoken venomously, after forcing him into a promise never to repeat his words, "is by far the most contradicting person I have come across. The girl is ruthless in her insecurity and takes it out on everyone around her. Do not concern yourself with her pitiful feelings."

The points she had deducted from him had then been awarded back by the moody professor for his "House loyalty and willingness to approach authority with problems." Of course, that mattered very little to him, but it seemed to make Professor Snape happy.

Though he now had some insight passed her confident outer image, he needed details. For that, he went to Hagrid.

"'ermione is the brightest thing I know," the half giant had started with a smile. "But she's mighty tender hearted. I 'member some years ago, Hermione got in a tiff with Harry and Ron and spent days out 'ere, 'elpin' me find ways to save Buckbeak, my hippogriff. Poor thing was heartbroken though, real sad that they wouldn' talk to her."

By the time he left the cabin some hours later, he had some idea of why Hermione had become so worked up over his words.

He had assumed, because really, he had relatively little practice in the field of honesty, that the truth would do no harm. How wrong he'd been. He'd neglected to realize that Hermione knew very well why people put up with her and had learned to deal with that fact. However, it must still hurt, especially since he, her latest addition to her friends, had said it so casually.

He rubbed his throbbing head. All this pondering on the inner workings of a girl's mind was quite the chore. But, now that he had some sense of what the problem was, he had to find a way to fix it. After all, his mother had told him to take care of any trouble he got himself into and he figured this counted.

But how? He couldn't very well go up to her and claim he had lied because apparently they both knew he hadn't. Then how? A grand gesture of kindness? Vengeance towards Draco? What would please her?

Maybe he just had to show her that not everyone found her friendship a necessary evil towards good scores. After all, he didn't talk to her merely because of her help with class work. He simply enjoyed her complicated company.

It never occurred to him that his own thoughts belied his previous statement that she hadn't friends that were not using her for their own advantage.

* * *

When the food appeared on the tables that evening, two suspicious groups of people were welcome to verification that at least some of their suspicions were founded. 

At the Slytherin table, Draco took a bite of potato that he promptly spit out. The quality was beyond inedible and a quick look around the Hall found a smirking Tony at the far end of the table. With a disgusted sneer, he pushed his plate away and left the Hall, but not without stealthily pushing the brat on his way out.

At the Gryffindor table, Harry and Ron ate with sheer bliss. How could anything be so completely delicious? The already high quality of Hogwarts food was surpassed by many factors of ten in this one meal, as impossible as Harry had previously thought it to be.

"This is great!" he mumbled through a mouthful of roast chicken as he reached for his cup of pumpkin juice.

"MMm.gerh!" Ron returned, food spilling from his lips in the process. He immediately grabbed hold of his napkin only to stop mid wipe when he realized Hermione had not chastised him. Swallowing, rather obscenely, he turned to his female friend who was, Merlin forbid, merely shoving her food around her plate without eating anything.

"You well, Hermione?"

"Hmmm..? Oh, yes, quite alright. Just thinking." With a short glance across the Hall, she returned her eyes to her plate and tuned out the world once more.

Ron was ready to jest about how often she was 'just thinking' when Harry nudged his ribs with a rather pointy elbow. A darting gaze signaled what he was supposed to be looking at…which turned out to be a young Slytherin with mismatched eyes.

"What's he staring over here for?" Ron whispered angrily. "You don't think he wants our food, do you?"

Harry wanted to hit him, he really did. Unfortunately, that would solve nothing and Harry had a lot of practice in not letting his anger become physical. Instead, he simply looked forward to nighttime when, under cover of darkness, he could take out his voodoo doll and pretend it was whoever had bothered him that day. He found that torturing the poor, undeserving doll, especially when he attached a picture to its cloth head (Malfoy, Snape, and Ron were most frequently used), made any anger he had built up just float away. He had to give Professor Dumbledore credit for such a brilliant idea.

"Think about it, Ron. I already told you that he's already in league with the house elves. The food at his table is probably even better than ours."

"Then why?"

"Doesn't Hermione look sad to you?"

"Well, yes, but I just assumed it was…you know…girl stuff."

It was a definite. The picture of Ron's head in the box with the tortured doll would be used tonight.

"Think about it! She's sad about something. Meanwhile, the boy who has control of the house elves is watching her looking mighty pitiful himself and we have the best food ever. Something happened between them, a fight of some sort."

"Probably wouldn't let her keep any country she successfully invaded in his name."

Doll strangulation sounded like a mighty fine pastime this evening.

"Maybe…" he allowed. "Regardless, we should keep an eye on him. If he's trying to buy her allegiance back with better food, who knows what he'll do. Just remember, he has the support of the house elves and there is no part of the castle closed to them."

* * *

Tony couldn't help but stare at the troublesome girl. Really, why was she being so difficult? He'd gone to all the trouble of convincing the house elves to drop their fear of She Who Would Give Clothing and give her the same level of service they gave him. And what was she doing? Not even noticing! 

Were all girls this difficult or was it just her? He'd best ask his dad next week. Despite his parents' infamous fights that left him Aboveground for indeterminate periods of time, his father was the smartest man he knew when it came to girls. After all, Dad had Mom and they were even more infamous for their love than their fights. Not that he loved Hermione or anything like that, but at least he could ask for some advice.

She looked so sad that it hurt his chest. A lot. A hand found its way to grip the folds of his robe covering his heart. It really, physically hurt.

He didn't like this. Her being sad was making him sad and he didn't like it at all. Why should she be so upset? He'd only spoken the truth. At least she had friends! He'd spent so much time schmoozing everyone that he wasn't particularly close to anyone. So what was the problem? Silly girl…

He sighed. Well, there was nothing for it. He'd just have to try harder to win her back. Hopefully it wouldn't take too terribly long.

After all, he still had more revenge to plot.

* * *


	10. Ninth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.  
_**Author's Pointless Statement:**_ hehe...on with the show. Seriously though, I am beyond astonished at the response to this. Pardon my language, but Bad Ass! For those of you who were interested, Jareth will now be playing a larger role. After all, who else could Tony go to for relationship advice?

**Ninth Chapter: Alternate Realities**

"JARETH!"

The heavy tread and furiously yelled name could only mean one thing: his Lady had discovered something. The only question then was what Sarah found out. After all, he made it a point to have several ongoing plots at any one time and he wasn't about to reveal any of them if it wasn't necessary.

"Yes, my dear?" he questioned lightly as she stormed into the room.

"How could you!"

"How could I what?"

"How could you…do…this…argh! You know exactly what you've done!"

And somehow, perhaps through practice, Jareth knew exactly what she was referring to.

"Ah. So you've found out."

"Found out? How could I not!"

"I expected I would have a bit longer to prepare."

"Well, Goblin King, that's what happens when you screw around with Time so much. You begin to misjudge it."

The strong anger had apparently passed for now, for which he was grateful. After all, powerful as he was, she had her own, less flashy, means of making him suffer. Taking the lull in temper as a start, he approached her slowly.

"Really, Jareth, after last time I thought we had agreed that this would be a joint decision."

"But, my dear girl, I found I could not stop myself. You were sad, and I thought, with Antonius in school, it was time."

She wanted to be angry at him, really, but it was so difficult with him massaging her shoulders and saying such sweet things.

"It will be more than fine," he promised. "We had talked about it sometime ago and I was under the assumption that you were more than agreeable with the idea. You certainly didn't complain…"

She slapped him gently before leaning against his chest. He, it turn, moved his hands down and began to thoroughly relax the muscles in her arm.

"So when do we tell Tony that he'll soon have a brother or sister?"

* * *

The week before the Gryffindor v. Slytherin Quidditch game, Draco could not get a break. His homework was continually misplaced and missing, resulting in loss of points. The food in the Great Hall continued to be inedible and he was surviving off goodies sent by his mum as well as whatever decent table scraps Crabbe and Goyle could scrounge. Two mornings in a row he had been hard pressed to find any shoes to wear as all his were either missing or in questionable condition, i.e. containing some horrific smelling mud that refused to be spelled away. 

When the sun rose on the Friday of the game, Draco was more than little on edge. So on edge, in fact, that he barely missed out getting detention, saved only be the timely interference of his Head of House. Said Professor then proceeded to tell him what he would be doing for the next month after class if Slytherin was beaten yet again by Gryffindor. Malfoy could only swallow nervously and pray to Merlin.

Classes had been dismissed early for the sake of sanity. He was still late to meet his team at the pitch to go over strategy as he had been searching for his lost gloves. Such was it that he was alone in the castle, hurrying toward the entrance when a small crystal ball appeared in front of him.

He was suspicious, to be sure, but it was mighty pretty and looked to be valuable. Of course, just as he went to pick it up, it began to roll away from him, down the corridor and toward the entrance hall. Interested and more than a little annoyed, he followed. Watching as it took turns effortlessly, he was completely unprepared when it came to a stop right outside the main doors. Smirking with the thought that the ball had extended passed its magical boundaries, he went to pick it up, only to be surprised when it exploded the second his hand closed around it.

The blinding noise and deafening light made him lose balance and tumble to the ground. He was still trying to regain his bearings when a voice startled him.

"Mr. Malfoy! Why are you not with your team?" Professor Snape hissed. "Stop this ridiculous behavior and get to the pitch!"

Half in fear of the sure punishment that was coming to him, he stumbled to his feet and recklessly ran down the hill toward the game. By the time he reached his team's locker room, he was even dizzier than before. Draco felt just about ready to hit his head against his broom until everything stopped spinning.

He sighed with frustration. This game could not go well.

* * *

"Hermione?" he asked while he dutifully followed her as she walked to the Quidditch pitch. 

She ignored him.

"Hermione, please talk to me," he begged.

She ignored him.

"Please, be my friend again! Please!"

"So you can have good marks?" she snorted. "No."

"Not for the marks, for your company! I miss talking to you!" he whined.

"Hmph."

"Come on, Hermione! What more do I have to do!"

"Leave me alone, Williams."

He cringed. She had taken to calling him by his last name and he didn't like it one bit.

"But Hermione…" he began again.

"Surely that is no son of mine acting so foolishly," a suave voice interrupted.

All at once the pained look on the boy's faded as he turned to face the intruder.

"DAD! I knew you'd come!" he shouted with joy as he ran to get a hug.

"Of course, child. And who would this young lady be?" Jareth asked pointedly as he turned his attention toward a curious Hermione.

"Hermione Granger, Head Girl at Hogwarts."

"Ah, so you are the girl my son goes on about."

She didn't know quite what to say to that. A quick glance showed Tony blushing furiously as he glared at his dad. Interesting…

"I suppose so," she returned with a smirk.

"Wonderful. Then you must come sit in the High Box with us. I want to hear all about what Hogwarts is teaching my boy."

"I don't think…"

"Nonsense, there is nothing to think about. Come."

"But…"

"I said come."

Sensing that her will was not as strong as that of this strange man, she sighed in defeat.

"Fine," she grumbled as she followed father and son to a different part of the stands than she was accustomed to. There, a woman with dark hair and green eyes the same color as one of Tony's sat speaking with Professor Dumbledore.

"Ah, Miss Granger, you have come to join us as well, I see," the Headmaster greeted with a bright, annoying twinkle. She had barely opened her mouth to answer when the strange man spoke in her stead.

"Yes, I found Antonius and Miss Granger speaking and requested her presence. As Head Girl, I am assuming she knows something of student life."

"Yes, Miss Granger is quite the person to speak with," Dumbledore responded. "Please, take a seat, Miss Granger. The other occupants of the box should arrive shortly."

He had no sooner spoken that than two blonde heads emerged from the stairs. There was a still moment when everyone stared with kindness-coated suspicion at the each other before a whistle from the stands spoiled it.

"Welcome back to Hogwarts, Mister Malfoy, Madam Malfoy," Dumbledore said with an all-knowing smile. "I believe you are already familiar with Miss Granger. May I introduce His Grace the Duke of Diagon, Jareth Calciare and Her Grace, the Lady Sarah Williams, and their son, Antonius. Young Mr. Williams here is a First Year in Slytherin."

Shocked silence followed that statement as Hermione and the Malfoys stared in disbelief. Dumbledore once more took control. A brief statement to the assembled crowd spurred the Malfoys to take their seats as the game began.

"Malfoy?" Sarah began with a glint in her eyes. "I believe I remember you from the platform in London."

"Oh? Imagine that," Lucius said with what he hoped was the proper amount of courtesy though he was inwardly seething.

"Yes. I told you my son would be placed in Slytherin. Seems I was right."

"You must be quite proud of him."

"Oh, I am. We are, that is."

"Yes, we are," Jareth continued. "Malfoy…Your son would be Draco, then?"

"Yes," Madam Malfoy answered with a superior smile. "He is Head Boy this year."

"I believe Antonius may have mentioned him in his letters." The predatory look in Jareth's mismatched eyes would have scared anyone.

"Oh?" Lucius answered with a strangled tone.

Luckily for him, Mr. Malfoy was saved when the crowd suddenly roared with excitement.

"Speaking of Draco," Tony said with a smirk. "It seems he has fallen from his broom."

Hermione, who had been watching the drama playing out before her eyes, wondered exactly how much the young Slytherin had to do with that.

Jareth found the spectacle below him quite entertaining as the blonde boy in ridiculously green attire stumbled around in wavering circles before falling to the ground again.

"I do not believe they will win this game," he noted with a smirk. "Such a pity."

* * *


	11. Tenth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

**Tenth Chapter: Pointed Looks and Conversations**

The Gryffindors couldn't be in a better mood. They had won the game, no contest really, Draco was a sure candidate for severe detention, and the strange guests were practically guaranteeing a new mystery. Nothing could be better.

Hermione, though, was in Hell. The kid that had insulted her and then proceeded to pester her for the last week had parents more forceful than him and thus she was pressured into joining them at a small private table that had been set up in one corner of the Great Hall.

"Join us," the father had all but demanded.

"It's not like its forever," the mother had added with a curious little smirk.

"Even if it feels like it," the son continued. "You'll find that forever isn't that long at all."

It was as if they were speaking a foreign language, so heavenly entrenched in inside jokes were they.

"It would be my pleasure," she said with a forced smile.

So it was that when Professor Dumbledore finally quieted the students enough to introduce the guests, she had already received more than her share of suspicious looks.

"Congratulations to Gryffindor and Slytherin on a game well played," the Headmaster said with a twinkle. "It was most certainly interesting."

Cue laughter at the Gryffindor table.

"But," he continued. "We have all the more reason to celebrate as we have been gifted with most wonderful guests!"

Attention instantly turned to the table where Hermione tried to decide whether it was best to hide in embarrassment at being at a table between an eleven year old and his parents or raise her chin in defiance. In the end, she found an awkward combination of both that included the raised chin as she sunk in her chair.

"It is my great privileged to introduce to Hogwarts His Grace the Duke of Diagon, Jareth Calciare and Her Grace, the Lady Sarah Williams. They are the parents of one of our own, Mister Antonius Williams of Slytherin House. They will be staying through the weekend and I expect everyone to show them how truly wonderful the students of Hogwarts can be."

That was a warning if they'd ever heard one, but more importantly, were Tony's parents really nobles? There was a Duke of Diagon? And they were not told?

Of course, Hermione had already been pondering this information for a good amount of time as it was and was intent on hitting the library as soon as she escaped from the grasp of this strange family. For now, she made it her goal to remember and catalogue every thing they did. While she did not doubt Tony's parents were special, she was certain beyond a doubt that the Duchy of Diagon had been given to the Ministry of Magic back in its infancy after the last Duke had passed on without a successor.

Her Grace (or was it Mrs. Calciare…or Miss Williams?) seemed the most normal of the crew and so it was to her that Hermione turned her platitudes and questions.

"Your Grace…"

"Please, call me Sarah."

"Sarah, I'm afraid I do not understand. You are a Muggle, correct?"

Sarah nodded calmly even as she inwardly wondered whether this was an obsession amongst witches and wizards.

"But His Grace-"

"Call him Jareth."

"Okay, though his lineage is such that he has claims on the magical duchy of Diagon, Jareth has no wizard blood?"

"Yes."

The simplicity of the answer confused her even as it made her even more suspicious. Without a doubt, the entire odd family was hiding something and Hermione had an inkling that it had everything to do with Jareth's true ancestry. Tony had been truthful about inheriting his father's eyes and now that she examined the man a bit, she felt even surer that he was at the very least partial Fae. A very large part. Probably entirely.

Whatever he was, he had just noticed her staring.

"Yes?"

"Something isn't right about you," she stated plainly, a bit worried that her words could be equivalent to an insult.

"Well, well, well, is that what you think?" he responded with a calm smirk.

"Yes."

"What makes you say that? Tell me, little girl, what do you think of me?"

Hermione noticed offhand that both Sarah and Tony rolled their eyes and figured this was routine behavior for the strange man.

"I think…" she began. "I think that you are royalty or at the very least upper class, though not necessarily what you say you are. You seem to be a nice enough man with a…high confidence thing."

"I seem to be?"

"Things aren't always what they seem. I'll need to research thoroughly before I can come to any conclusions."

Sarah and Tony stared at her in gaping amazement.

"Now, now, enough about me. Tell me, Hermione, how are you enjoying this school?"

"I enjoy it a lot, sir. The war was awfully tragic, but my other experiences have been great."

"Do you believe Antonius will come away from this better off?"

"Oh yes. The friends I made here…" She shot an unreadable look towards Tony who smiled awkwardly. "I will remember for a lifetime."

"Ah, friends. I'm afraid that he gets that from his mother. It was always impossible to resist her entreaties of friendship. Some risked Certain Death to win her favor," Jareth said wistfully.

Hermione turned her gaze onto Sarah who was smiling in such a benign manner that she was reminded of Dumbledore.

"Really? Then we have more in common that I thought," Hermione smiled in return. "I first became friends with Harry and Ron when they saved me from a troll. Of course, it helped that I covered for them."

"Interesting…Tell me, Hermione, these friends of yours…would they be the ones glaring at us as we speak? Hmm?" Jareth rebutted with irritating calmness.

* * *

"Look at her…smiling at them! Who does she think she is?" Ron grumped, his Quidditch high worn down in the face of this new mystery. 

"She's probably trying to gain their favor. If Tony really is an Earl, then he has power. If she allies herself with them now, who knows what they'll be capable of," Harry reasoned.

"I knew it! Between the house elves and this Duke, they are unstoppable! They'll take over the world!"

"Ron, I really don't think she's trying to do anything like that, but she IS planning something. Now quiet, they are looking at us."

* * *

"Actually, no, those would be some Ravenclaws I topped on the last Transfiguration exam. Those two sending suspicious looks from the far table would be Harry and Ron." 

"Do they still think we are planning on world domination?" Tony asked with a bright smile. He had always thought it was a rather appealing idea.

"I believe so. They've stopped speaking to me altogether of late. I'd really like to know what they think they know because I can make no sense of their reasoning."

"They truly suspect you have such plans?" Sarah questioned with a snort.

"Yes. Really, they need to revise their logic. As if I'd make any moves on the wizarding world at this time and in that fashion."

"Ah," Jareth said with a wicked smile. "So you do plan on ruling."

"Only for good. I plan on being the first Muggle-born Minister of Magic so I can implement House Elf protection laws, an anti-bribery bill, and set guidelines to ensure the validity of publications."

"My, what diplomacy," the supposed Duke granted as he sent an approving look toward his Lady.

"What did you say about the house elves?" Tony asked curiously. "They are scared of you, you know."

"Yes, well, I've come to accept that some of them will no see theirs as the bonds of slavery. However, abuse still is prominent in some households and I'll do what I can to stop it."

"Oh, come now, a little kick never did anyone foul," Jareth commented indignantly.

Recognizing the glint in Hermione's eyes as that of the beginning of a rather lengthy rant, he quickly sought to change the topic of conversation.

"Hermione! Isn't that your owl?"

It wasn't, but at the very least it distracted her from house elves.

* * *


	12. Eleventh Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

**Eleventh Chapter: Of Names**

There was something they weren't telling him. He could see it in the happy little grin, the confident little smirk. There was an air about his father that practically screamed 'I've still got it!'

He simply had to know. So it was that, despite how much he enjoyed Hermione's company even if she did send him looks that promised all sorts of retribution, he finally cornered his parents alone as he escorted them to their guest chambers.

"Tell me."

"What?" his mother asked with a light blush.

"You have news of some kind. Tell me or I'll ask the Headmaster to allow me to stay with you tonight."

"That doesn't sound so bad…"

"Oh, it will be."

Whether it was his threat or the glance sent at his mother by his father that usually meant certain plans depended on Tony's removal from their bedroom, Tony knew not. Of course, he cared not either so it was all well in the end when he got his way, regardless of the reasons.

"Well, you see Tony…in a few months…come summer barring any major jumps in Time…you'll be a brother!"

There was a quiet pause as Tony processed that information. A brother…which meant his mother was pregnant…which meant there would be another person around…which meant his parents would have to split their love…which meant they didn't love him anymore. Yes, that sounded reasonable.

"But…but…Why? Why do you want to replace me? Am I not good enough? Why?" he mumbled as his eyes filled with tears most unfitting a Slytherin.

"O, honey, we aren't replacing you! We'll still love you just as much as before. It's just we'll have new love for this new baby…" Sarah tried to explain even as she thought about her own feelings when she had first heard of Toby.

"Antonius," Jareth said with an air that demanded attention be paid to him…like usual. "You are not being replaced. You are simply receiving more responsibility because we trust that you are capable. Ordinary children find a new sibling as a threat, but you are not an ordinary child. You, my son, are heir to the throne of the Goblin Kingdom. I expect more from you, including loving your brother or sister and knowing better than to assume that we will stop loving you."

Tony felt suitably abashed, though he suspected his father didn't know much of this predicament considering the King was an only child. Looking to his mother for verification, she nodded with a serious smile even as she opened her arms, inviting him for an embrace.

That was all it took for him. Enveloped in his mother's arms as his father affectionately ruffled his hair, he feared nothing.

* * *

By the time Draco finally stumbled into his bed that night, he was more than exhausted. The dizziness from the bloody exploding crystal was content to linger. Falling from his broom, even at such a small distance, had hurt. Not to mention, his punishment for loosing had been hours of decapitating newts. Unfortunately, it was a terribly messy business and the knife kept slipping, cutting his fingers instead. 

However, as exhausted as he was, he still had the capacity to be angry. He could have possibly been enraged, but that would have required a bit more effort and so angry he stayed.

Who could have done it? Who was responsible for the crystal? Surely it was a bit too advanced for Potter or the Weasel. After all, he had not been concentrating on them lately, so there really was no need for such an attack, unless it was done to guarantee the win in Quidditch. But no, Gryffindors were an odd lot that seemed to like winning fairly if only so they could boast louder. But if not them, who?

The kid, maybe? No, it couldn't be. If Potter and the Weasel were incapable of such a stunt, then the kid was even less so. Unless…the Mudblood helped him. AH! That made perfect sense! After all, she had been sitting with his family at dinner and he'd heard that she had even sat in the High Box with them and his own parents. Ho! How his father must have loved that, sharing the stands with Muggles and Mudbloods.

So, Granger had forgiven the brat, was it? Well, he'd show them. No one messed with a Malfoy, Nobody!

* * *

"My Lady!" 

She ignored it. After all, there surely couldn't be a house elf behind her saying such things.

"My Lady!"

It was all in her imagination. The house elves were frightened of her so it was most impossible.

"My Lady! Miss Granger! Please speak to Dobby!"

Surely, she was delusional. Though Dobby was not scared of her, he had never taken to calling her 'My Lady.'

"Yes, Dobby?" she said politely, firmly convinced that she had not just woken up and taken a bath, but was still entrenched in dreamland.

"Master Tony tells Dobby to bring Miss Granger to breakfast!"

"I'm sorry, but I am not interested," she responded, inwardly seething at the boy's presumption.

"But…but Dobby must! Dobby must obey his Master!" the elf pleaded even as he dared to take hold of her robe.

"Master? Dobby, why do you call him 'Master'?"

"Because he is, Miss Granger. Dobby must obey young Master!"

Now that was curious. So curious, in fact, that she allowed the elf to lead her to the private guest room as she pondered this bit of information. It wasn't until the door opened to admit her that she realized she was accepting the invitation.

"Hermione!"

"Tony," she responded coolly, her anger at him rising. Looking behind the First Year, she saw the his strange parents, sitting quite regally at a table that had most obviously been set up for the sole purpose of breakfast.

"Please excuse the late invitation. Tony really wanted you to eat with us," Sarah explained with a smile.

"Come. Join us. The food is quite adequate," Jareth added.

Taking inventory of the pair's content smiles, relaxed yet confident poses, and overall glow, she guessed they had not kept the unfamiliar location from interfering in their intimate affairs. The knowledge was more than slightly disconcerting.

She was about to answer, perhaps weaving in a backhanded comment regarding their good nature this morning, when she noticed something.

Dobby, the freest amongst the house-elves, was groveling on the floor.

"Dobby?"

"Heh…don't mind him," Tony said rather ineffectually as he tried to pry the elf from the floor.

"Dobby!" he whispered loud enough for Hermione to hear. "I thought we already went over this!"

"Young Master is right! Please forgive Dobby!" And without further preamble, the ugly little creature began to bang its head upon the stone floor, producing a most painful sound.

It took a good five minutes for Dobby to be stopped and sent from the room. During that time, Hermione took note of the behavior of everyone present. For Muggles, Sarah and Jareth were surprisingly not amazed at the oddities of the castle. And what exactly were the family's ties to the elves?

"Now that that has been dealt with," Jareth said with all the air of his supposed royalty. "Let us start the meal."

She smiled, nodded, and took her seat, most surprised and suspicious when Tony pulled her chair out for her.

The meal was excellent, a wide selection of pastries with fresh orange juice, and Sarah filled the silence with stories about her brother, Toby.

"And then your uncle said, 'You mean that really happened?'"

Jareth laughed heartily while Sarah and Tony giggled relentlessly. Hermione smiled, more at the picture of a loving family than the story of Toby's Night on the Town.

"Do you have any siblings, Hermione?" Sarah asked once her laughter had died down.

"No. I am an only child."

"Oh." A pause. "Tony is going to have a sibling."

Oh.

"You are expecting?" she asked with the required smile though she was a bit shocked that these strangers would keep involving her in their personal lives.

"Yes," Sarah replied with undeniable happiness.

"That's great! When are you due?"

"The end of June. But we are already thinking of names."

"Really…"

"Oh yes. I was thinking Ferdinand for a boy and Rosamund for a girl."

"No daughter of mine will ever be named something so preposterous," Jareth stated stonily. Hermione cast a worried glance between the two.

"What's so wrong with Rosamund?"

"Rosamund, taken from Latin for "pure rose". Pure? You might as well name her Innocent. We both know no daughter of ours will ever be anything other than devious. No child of ours will ever be anything other than sneaky."

"I suppose. What would you choose?"

"Is it not obvious? Ariadne."

"Ariadne? Never!"

"Why ever not?" he demanded.

"Do you really want to name our daughter after a woman who was abandoned by the man she loved?"

"I care not for the trifle romance. I am more interested in the…problem solving skills related."

"I don't like it."

"Pity, because it will be the name."

"Never!"

This continued with Hermione watching with wide eyes before Tony snuck around the table and whispered into her ear.

"Let's get out of here. This could take a while."

"Are they always like that?" she asked pointedly after they managed to escape the guest quarters without Sarah or Jareth noticing.

"Yes. Especially over such small things. I heard that my mother left my father for three months when he demanded to name me after his grandfather."

"What was so wrong with that?"

"My great grandfather was named Neoptolemus."

"Wow. That's worse than Hermione."

He paused, and she stopped with him. He turned to her with a puzzled smile.

"I just realized something. Neoptolemus was the son of Achilles."

"Yes."

"He was killed by Orestes when he married the daughter of Menelaus and Helen…"

"Who was named Hermione…"

"Strange…Were you named after her?"

"A woman who betrayed her husband and encouraged her lover to murder other people? No. My name was taken from Shakespeare."

"O. Yes, that is much better."

"I thought so too."

She wasn't quite sure how, but a silent truce had apparently been called between them. She could only wonder what that meant.

In another part of the castle, Harry woke up sensing that something was wrong.

* * *


	13. Twelfth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.  
_**Author's Plea:**_ Sorry about that. Real Life interference and all that jazz. Thanks for your reviews, though. I most appreciate it! And I'm most sorry that I don't answer. You have my gratitude all the same.  
Ah well. Enjoy if you can.

**Twelfth Chapter: The Ears the Walls Have**

Hermione pondered shortly whether it was proper to hope that the argument between Tony's parents lasted long enough for her to escape her duties. Normally, Draco would be the one required to do this task, but as she already had an apparent relationship with the Duke, there no question as to who would be asked to give a tour of the castle.

Finally she allowed that, though wishing for a continued argument wasn't going to win her any points with the Gods of Propriety, it was justifiable under the circumstances.

She was unsurprised when the oddly rejuvenated couple came up to her in the Great Hall at lunch. With the amount of time they glowed with an aura of satisfaction, it was a wonder that Tony hadn't any siblings before.

"Ah, there you are."

"Hermione!" Sarah said as she elbowed Jareth in the ribs for his less welcoming statement.

"His Grace…" she began with a worn smile.

"Tut, tut, tut…what did we tell you?" Jareth admonished smoothly.

"Jareth. Sarah." The balance these two had between formality and leniency was an odd one, Hermione noted wryly. It was almost as if they really were royalty, just as she had suspected since the beginning. But then the question was, where?

"I am sure you will find we are not so demanding if you just follow the rules," Jareth responded, almost as if he had heard her thoughts. Of course, he could just be extrapolating from what she guessed to be her very telling expression, but she would keep her mind closed from now on. Always better to be cautious and all.

"Sir, I find the rules are oftentimes very malleable and dependent upon the writer. I follow them at my own discretion."

A look was shared between the odd couple, leaving Hermione to speculate what could possibly be the significance in what she had just said.

"Well," Sarah said, breaking the moment. "We were told you were the one to give us a tour. We would really appreciate it."

"Oh, yes. Just stay close. It's very easy to get lost inside the castle. It's a regular maze."

"Is that so…" Jareth mumbled as he gave his wife (or was she?) another look.

Hermione only sighed even as she catalogued and filed the information away in her brain for a time when she could visit the library. If there was any small bit of certainty in the world, it was that Tony would be subjected to a lengthy interrogation at her hands in the near future.

* * *

It seemed like an ordinary castle tour. He'd seen Hermione give them countless times before to First Years and visitors and thought nothing of it. 

However, this time he was sure there would be a deviation of some sort. Surely she'd want the Duke to see whatever she had been working on with Tony. Obviously.

They'd started going west and visited the owlery, then through the Transfiguration corridor (_where Harry just knew they'd duck into a classroom where Hermione surely had some project going_), and through a myriad of hallways and stairways, ending up in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady (_where Harry was certain she'd show them how to get inside_). They then traveled down again and through the Charms corridor where they spent some length of time discussing what exactly charms were (_Harry was positive she'd demonstrate to prove her skill_), and through a courtyard into the center of the castle with stops at Ravenclaw Tower and Dumbledore's office (_where he would have bet all his Honeyduke's allowance that she would have snuck them in somehow_). By the time they had reached the Entrance Hall again, he was a bit upset that he had wasted his time on stalking a castle tour.

"Dad! Mom! Hermione!"

Harry had to throw himself out of the way of a barreling Tony. Once he had regained his breath, he snuck over to hear their conversation.

"So what all have you seen so far?" the kid asked with (_what appeared to be_) genuine curiosity.

"We have traversed the South and East corridors, some of the West, and a portion of the center. However, we haven't yet viewed the North corridor or the sublevels." Jareth's answer was so complete that Harry couldn't help but stare.

"How did you know that? It took me months to know where I was," Hermione said incredulously.

"I have a good sense of direction," he replied with a nonchalant shrug. A noise turned Harry's attention toward Sarah and Tony who were doing their best to stifle giggles. What was their issue?

Turning his eyes back to Hermione, he saw her eyes hardening with a familiar glint.

"You do realize," she said with a falsely casual air, "that as soon as I have some time in the library, you've given me enough clues to figure you out."

Harry's attention was riveted.

"That may be," the visitor said lightly. "The question is, what will you do with such knowledge?"

Chancing a glance around the crew as he silently drew closer, he saw that Tony was the only one in the odd family who lacked the disaffected air. He looked downright uncomfortable.

Hermione seemed to have noticed Tony's tense stance. She smiled gently at the boy, causing Harry to frown under his cloak.

"It all depends on if that information really changes anything," she voiced softly yet firmly.

That answer seemed to satisfy the young Slytherin's parents as they grinned and pushed the students onward, demanding the rest of the tour. With renewed interest, Harry followed.

* * *

Draco was draped unceremoniously on a couch in the Slytherin Common Room, absently staring at the green lamp hanging above him when he heard someone enter the room. Correction – someones. He hid his presence with a quick incantation. This trick had served him well in the past. 

"And this is my common room…"

Oh, so the little pipsqueak was leading his parents down here for a tour? Horrible! Downright indecent! Terribly wrong to have filthy Muggles in such a proud house.

"I really shouldn't be in here…"

Granger? Not just Muggles but a Mudblood too? The disgrace!

"Nonsense, Hermione," the man responded.

Foolishness, all of it!

"Have you taken care of that Evil nonsense?" the woman asked.

Was the brat laughing? All that work, and the kid was laughing. What was the world coming to these days? A mudblood in Slytherin, Muggles at Hogwarts…seriously, it was off!

"I don't think I will have to worry about Draco causing problems for some time," the brat said with a snicker.

"Why's that?"

Yes, why, you dirty little upstart?

"The portraits say that Draco has gotten detention with Professor Snape for some time because of the game yesterday."

There was a pause before all four of the trespassers burst into laughter. Draco fumed from the safety of his couch.

"Professor Snape actually gave him detention?" Granger asked as she tried to find her breath.

"Yes! He was so upset over losing that he's taking it out on Draco for messing up."

"I suppose that makes sense," the woman said thoughtfully.

"It's just rare for Professor Snape to punish any of the Slytherins. He's a bit partial."

Stupid mudblood and her stupid observations.

"Still, at least he'll be busy at something besides plotting against me. Seriously, half the school thinks we're going to take over the world!"

Stupid brat and his stupid…hey, wait a second. Who else?

"Harry is just suspicious of everything. I'd be afraid to sneak up on him."

So Potter also suspected the pair of deviousness…interesting. And so very wrong that he and Potter would ever have the same idea.

"Well, now that you've seen the Slytherin Common Room, why don't we head outside and visit Hagrid's cabin?"

The others seemed to agree with Granger's suggestion and headed out, leaving Draco alone to his thoughts again.

With the brat's disposition, cunning, and royal parents and the mudblood's intelligence, war hero status, and ruthlessness, they really were out of his league if they truly were plotting something serious. He needed help to discover it, but his housemates were either under the kid's spell or too wary of interfering. Potter, being suspicious enough these days to probably track her or something equally ridiculous, might have more information.

So that left him with the troublesome task of retrieving said information. This was going to be bothersome.

* * *


	14. Thirteenth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.

**Thirteenth Chapter: The Benefit of Thought**

The longer Hermione was with them, the more obvious her symptoms of Library Withdrawal became. Her eyes scanned passages in her mind as her fingers danced over everything in their path, searching for the welcoming leather-bound text. They tried to keep her attention, but it seemed the more they spoke, the more often her face would light up at certain ambiguous comments. It was only a matter of time before she exploded from the need to research.

It was in fear of this that they finally let her go, watching with a mix of anxiety and humor as she scampered off in the direction of the library.

"I figure she'll have it all worked out by the time we leave," Sarah stated speculatively as she lead the family back into the guest rooms.

"No. She'll have a good idea by the time we leave, but she will not be certain until after," Jareth commented idly.

"Easy for you to say," Tony muttered. "You don't have to deal with it like I do."

"Come now, Antonius. You do not truly believe the girl will do anything, do you?"

"Not really. But I still worry. She's hard enough to figure out without her knowing the truth. And if she tells anyone else, it'll only add to the rumors about me."

"Ignore them," Sarah said wisely. "If she is really all that you say she is, then she will act appropriately. If not, well, everyone makes mistakes." Her pointed glance at Jareth spoke considerably.

They sat in the silent guest chambers, each lost in their own thoughts. Tony wondered how Hermione's research would affect their friendship. Sarah wondered how Hermione's research would affect her chances at smart, magical grandchildren. Jareth wondered what part of his Labyrinth would be most effective in dealing with the girl if her research caused Antonius trouble.

In the library, Hermione paused as she pulled out another book to stifle a shiver.

"It can't be too bad. I mean, she should be impressed," Sarah mused. "After all, it isn't everyday one comes across true royalty, even if it is just the Goblin Kingdom."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" Jareth asked indignantly.

"Nothing," she replied quickly before turning back to her son. "Of course the difficult part would be if someone else, like that Harry fellow, found out."

"Yeah," Tony said with a smirk. "He already thinks I am plotting world domination. Wonder what he'll come up with if he knows part of the world is already mine."

They laughed and Harry Potter, under his Invisibility Cloak in the hallway outside the door struggling to hear anything through the powerful wards, suddenly felt self conscious.

When Tony excused himself back to the Slytherin Common Room until dinner, Jareth and Sarah found themselves once more alone. An hour later, content and languid, they were in no hurry to leave the comfort of the guest bed.

"This Hermione stuff brings back memories," Sarah murmured with a grin as she lazily counted cracks in the ceiling.

"Such as?"

"Such as the second time we met."

"Ah. That."

"I was 19. Not much older than her."

"Yes, but I was by no means 11."

"Of course not. You were a perverted old man. Still are."

He huffed with offense before she placated him with a kiss.

"Truthfully, I had been expecting you before that," she continued once the king was again grinning.

"Is that so?"

"Yes. Hoggle had been telling me of your increasing angst. He was the first to really let me know of your intentions towards the end of our game."

"There were others?"

"Of course there were. Every goblin you'd kicked from the time I left until we met again came to me at least once, requesting I return just so they'd be safe from unintended flight."

"Really…"

"Yes. So as you can see, I had been expecting you for years."

"I had to wait for the appropriate time. One cannot have a Goblin King without the proper dramatic entrance."

"Of course! How silly of me to assume otherwise!"

"Exactly. You know better than to assume anything."

"Still, traffic court? Was it really necessary to make your grand re-entrance into my life during traffic court?"

"Why ever not? It seemed appropriate."

"How was your appearance as my judge over my unpaid traffic tickets appropriate?"

"Authority, Sarah. Did you really think I'd reappear as someone who did not have some sort of power over you?"

"Jerk."

"Regardless, I do believe I was quite…fair in my ruling."

"I was not responsible for those fines!"

"Of course not, my dear. It was the car that chose to speed often enough to get caught 67 times."

She pouted in silence.

* * *

The house-elf was fidgeting more than Longbottom under Snape's watchful glare during Potions. 

"I am not going to hurt you, Dobby. I just need some information."

"But…Young Mister, Dobby mustn't tell!"

"I'm just curious. Why do the elves favor Williams?"

"But Dobby cannot speak of Master Tony! Dobby keeps Master Tony's secrets!"

The young man sighed with exasperation. This was going to take forever. Wait…

"Master? You have no Master, not since bloody Potter got you free from my family. So why do you call him Master?"

The elf's eyes seemed to get impossibly wider and wetter before the creature began hitting his head rather forcefully on the stone floor. It took several moments before Draco was able to continue the conversation.

"Dobby mustn't say, Young Mister! Master Tony made Dobby promise!"

"What did he make you promise?" Draco asked with a suppressed smirk. This tactic had worked with house-elves in the past.

"Dobby promised not to tell anyone about He Who Kicks Goblins!"

The elf was smarter than he'd expected, for as soon as the odd title escaped his disgusting mouth, he seemed to realize his error and instantly began beating his head on the floor again. Draco didn't bother stopping him. He had enough information for the time being. Though the elves were required to help all Hogwarts students, it was obvious he wouldn't be getting much from them. The situation had to be even worse than he'd expected if they were answering to the wishes of the brat over those of the Headmaster.

He needed more information. He sighed. It looked like it was time to do a little bit of sneaking.

* * *

Harry Potter was known for a lot of things. One of the lesser known facts was that, at times when he was confused and alone, he had a habit of talking to himself. It was a more widely known fact that, for all his intuitiveness, Harry had a habit of being blind at some of the most inopportune of times. 

Both of these gave Draco the advantage he needed.

"She knows he's not who he says he is…" the Boy Who Lived Again And Again muttered. "House elves call him Master…Not a Duke… but powerful…"

Really, was this all Scarhead had? It was a wonder he had survived all these years. Of course, it was the Mudblood who regularly did his thinking for him.

"She'll know soon…They know she'll know…She knows they'll know she knows…Williams is worried…"

On second thought, maybe it would be best to follow Granger around instead.

"Excellent sense of direction…what did he mean by that? They all laughed…and when she referred to it as a maze…Why would that interest them so much?"

Mazes? What was this nonsense? Made as little sense as what his father had said about the Gringotts' goblins.

Didn't Dobby mention 'He Who Kicks Goblins'?

Wait a second…

Oh no.

* * *

In the library, Hermione Granger reread the passage again, just to make sure, before reaching the same conclusion.

* * *

In the Slytherin Common Room, Antonius 'Tony' Williams sneezed ominously.

* * *


	15. Fourteenth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_Just A Penniless Writer_

**_Disclaimer:_** Not mine. Neither of them.  
**_Author's Plea:_** Forgive the delay. The penname is not a lie. I've been desperately searching for employment now that I am officially a college dropout. Once I have gainful employment, my updates might get even less frequent. It all depends. My apologies, but if I can't pay for rent, then I have to sell my beloved puter and then how will I write?

**Fourteenth Chapter: Declarations and Deals**

He'd never held bedtime stories in any high esteem. They were silly, after all, especially once Narcissa broke down her snobbish exterior and read the tale properly, complete with voice variation. Still, for every tall tale there lay a bit of truth in the center. The extent of the truthfulness was for him to find.

Thus it was that Draco quickly stalked back to the Slytherin common room, his mind set on verification of his suspicions. He could only pray he was wrong.

Thus it was that Draco was not expecting the object of his consternation to be sitting at a desk against the wall of the common room, looking mildly worried. He froze at the site of the young Slytherin who appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be just another first year doing his homework. Then, shaking off some of his dread, he stealthily snuck his way into his dormitory where his trunk awaited him with what could possibly be answers.

It took him fifteen long minutes to remove the various wards from the various sections of the trunk. As a Slytherin living with other Slytherins, it never paid to be lenient about the safety of belongings. This particular belonging was guarded the heaviest, due to its high humiliation potential. The little book was old, worn to a sad state, and he hadn't the heart to return it to its formerly pristine condition when every tear in the bindings had a story from his childhood.

Carefully, lovingly, turning to the appropriate page, he read the tale of the Evil Goblin King who stole disobedient children in the dead of night. The only way to retrieve said child (if one even wanted to retrieve said child) was to run a nasty maze that more often than not resulted in Death (and utter defeat the rest of the time). There were no illustrations, but the description of the King, when a judicious amount of adjective slaughter was employed, seemed to match Tony's father.

More damning were the similarities in the name. Jareth Calciare was suspicious by itself without the storybook naming of the Goblin King Jarethus. And wasn't Calciare an Italian word for 'kick'?

Still, while the evidence was enough for him, it was certainly not enough for everyone else. That is, until the final piece fell into place.

'And the Evil Goblin King turned the Child into a terrifying Goblin with a Beautiful Crystal Ball.'

He dropped the book, barely registering that a new tear formed, though in later years, he would point out that ragged page to his spoiled children and say that happened when he met the Goblin Prince.

When he finally shook himself out of his daze, he reckoned that his father should be informed. After a scribbling a lengthy letter containing his suspicions a plea for instruction, he left the safety of his room feeling much more in control.

The feeling was short lived. Tony Williams, Goblin Prince, was approaching him. Instantly, Draco brought up his wand and began a panicked and desperate path for the exit.

"Draco? What's wrong? I just wanted to ask you something about Transfiguration?" That voice was entirely too innocent. As if the usurping little brat didn't know who he was!

"Get away from me, you filthy freak!"

With that said, the elder Slytherin blindly sent a hex in the general direction of the boy as he fled. Draco didn't stop running until he was in the owlery. Meanwhile, Tony just looked at the spot of wall that had been hit and unaffected by the hex.

"What was that all about?" he wondered aloud. A few other students in the common room merely shrugged. After all, Draco's cowardice was well-known.

Tony shook off his worry and decided Hermione was the best person to ask for help anyways. It would be the first time he had requested scholastic assistance since the Incident, and he could always blame the oddities of Draco. Gathering his books and scrolls, he departed for the library. He only idly wondered if she had found her answers yet.

* * *

Hermione sighed dramatically. She stared with determination into the mirror. Her jaw tightened as she drew herself together in preparation. 

"I wish…" She paused. After all, the consequences were dire if she made a mistake. Still, it must be done. "I wish the Goblin King would speak to me about his son."

The ensuing silence made her think that maybe, just this once, she had been wrong about something important. But no! That simply couldn't be!

"I wish to speak with the Goblin King!" she said with more enthusiasm. Still nothing. Her frustration grew. It was impossible that she was wrong. He was just being lazy. Probably upstairs doing Merlin Knew What with his (wife? Partner? Queen?) Sarah.

"I wish to speak with the Goblin King, RIGHT NOW!"

Perhaps it was because she had been so angry that she was already breathing a bit heavier than usual. Regardless, when the contained explosion hit the air behind her, she turned and immediately began choking on glitter.

"Was…" Cough. "…the glitter…" Prolonged cough. "…really…" Coughing spasm. "…necessary?" Wheezing as Hermione finally collapsed into a chair.

"Of course it was. Do you know of a better way to make an entrance?" Ah yes. Though she could yet make out the details of the King through watering and glitter coated eyes, she easily recognized the voice.

"Why don't you…" Cough. "…ask Professor Snape?"

The King laughed lightly. It was slightly disconcerting. Taking hold of her wand, she cast a light cleansing spell on her eyes that allowed her to see the other occupant of the room. Sure enough, it was Tony's father. However, he was not quite the same. For one, he was wearing what was possibly the most ridiculous costume she had ever seen. Though, she could see how Sarah could spend so much time locked in the bedroom with the man. However, his hair and make-up really weren't doing him justice. It was all too loud for her tastes.

"The other look suits you better," she stated.

"Sarah would agree with you. However, my subjects have come to expect… certain things, and the practices of my people are archaic and strange." He paused and smiled maliciously. "Not to mention this ensemble takes attention away from the fact that I have just stolen a child."

"Ah. You stack all the odds in your favor then."

"Of course. I do like to win."

"Of course."

There was a tense pause.

"I assume from my presence that you have learned of Antonius' lineage."

"Yes. Just wanted verification."

"And what shall you do now that you know?"

She paused in thought.

"How much of your type of magic can he do?" she said slowly.

"A little. Mostly, he just borrows magic from me in small amounts. He may have begun to use his own, but he has not informed me."

"And if he does start using his own?"

"I would keep from saying 'I wish'."

She looked at him speculatively.

"Perhaps I'd best ask Sarah about some of this," she stately plainly.

"Perhaps. However, you have yet to answer my question. What shall you do now that you know?"

"What would you have me do?"

The King stared at her with something bridging on respect.

"If it is all the same, I would prefer that Antonius believe his secret is hidden. I would not have my son worried over it."

"Wouldn't he worry more if he thought I didn't yet know?"

"Perhaps. But I'm counting on my son internally knowing that you know but not admitting that fact. In such a manner, he would be free."

"So… he wouldn't be as careful with keeping the secret but at the same time, he wouldn't have to worry about acting his proper station."

"Exactly."

"I suppose that is possible…"

"Of course."

"But what do I get out of this?"

The King's eyes narrowed. Did this girl really think she could barter with him? That privilege was reserved for family and the occasional subject he would later manipulate.

"I am lying to protect your son, who, I might add, has come quite close to stalking me. Not to mention, my continued friendship and tutorage of him will complicate my relationship with Harry and Ron as well as make me a further target for the imbecilic wrath of Draco Malfoy. I believe some compensation is in order, especially since, should he come into his powers, I will be able to offer him some cover."

Hermione had somehow managed to say all this with an innocent expression and calculating eyes. Jareth was hard pressed not to congratulate her before he threw her into an oubliette. Still, this was bound to be interesting.

"What are your terms?" he asked falsely airily.

"I reserve the right to call on you when I deem it necessary. Also, I am currently working on gaining support for a law I am sending to the Minister concerning the rights of house-elves. Some sort of contribution would be fitting."

"Why would I do such a thing?"

"You would benefit, of course. The house-elves already look to you as their own king. Ensuring their safety would put a large number of powerful creatures in your debt. I am not looking to free them (_yet_), simply set up a provision against abuse."

"I'll see what I can do. Sarah will most certainly be interested."

"So I figured." A pause as they warily thought over the terms. "Do we have a deal?"

He nodded, and she smiled wryly.

"Now," he said with a wicked grin, "you interrupted something rather… important. You might wait an hour or so before calling on Sarah. For now, I believe my son is searching for you."

She blushed at the implication. So he had been doing Merlin Knows What.

"Thank you," she said quietly, but something occurred to her as he prepared to disappear. "Wait! I have a question."

"Yes?"

"Sarah… Is she your Queen? Wife?"

"I suppose you are referring to her use of the Williams name for herself and Antonius."

"Yes."

"I have no name other than Jareth, and my lack of existence in the Aboveground makes a mortal marriage impossible."

"Oh."

"She is a Queen though, however she hates the title."

Hermione smiled and the King disappeared. She took a moment to gather herself before exiting the Room of Requirement in search of the Goblin Prince. She found him questioning some older Ravenclaws outside the library.

"Hermione! I was looking everywhere for you!" the charming little boy called as he ran to her side.

"I had some business to take care of. Crookshanks was bothering Mrs. Norris again."

"Oh." He paused and looked at her with no small amount of worry. "So… did you find what you were looking for?"

She met his mismatched gaze solidly for possibly the first time.

"Nope," she responded. "I decided it was none of my business."

And just like that, everything was fine again with Tony.

"Do you think you could help me on my Transfiguration homework? I asked Draco, but he ran off screaming. He's a bit odd."

"Yes, he is. I'll help, but don't expect me to help often."

"Of course not."

They walked into the library, unaware of the multiple sets of eyes watching them from the shadows.

* * *


	16. Fifteenth Chapter

**Most Unusual**  
_astarvingwriter_

_**Standard Disclaimer Applies x2  
Author's Plea: **_So... took this in a different direction than I had originally envisioned, but I still think I might could pull it off. It's been, oh, two+ years since I last touched this, so please forgive me if I'm a bit rusty. Also... editing? What editing?

* * *

**Fifteenth Chapter: Internal and External Influenza**

The new-found peace between Hermione and Tony lasted much longer than any of their watchers had anticipated.

Of course, that was hardly to say that their friendship was a smooth one. Their frequent but good natured bickering over assorted issues was the main reason Harry didn't support Ron's theory that Hermione had finally been taken over by the spell of the kid's eyes.

"She seems pretty swayed to me."

"She was taunting him yesterday over his fear of heights. I doubt she'd do that if she were truly swayed."

"Then they're collaborating."

"Probably. But what are they collaborating about?"

Whenever Hermione and Tony overheard this oft repeated bit of logic, they would always share a smirk that perhaps only added credibility to the boys' theory.

In truth, they collaborated about very little. Hermione was still dead set against helping Tony on his class work outside of the study group, and Tony was very set against involving her in any Underground business. After all, he was only half certain she knew his origins, and he wasn't about to risk informing her if she didn't already know.

However, Tony was sure of one thing: the more time he spent with Hermione, the more he found himself enjoying her. Even her bits of insanity. Even when she was so very wrong about whatever they were arguing about. If anything, he found himself often blushing when she started really getting into her long monologues for whatever cause she was supporting that hour.

It confused him, and he found himself frequently writing to his parents to find out exactly what was going on. He thought his reasoning and writing very mature, but his mother only ever responded by gushing over how adorable his crush was.

His father gave better, though still useless, advice.

'_Compliment her and control her, but only when she doesn't know or doesn't mind. She seemed remarkably similar to your mother, so you might also try singing. It doesn't always work the first dozen __times, but she will eventually fall victim to your charms. You are _my_ son._'

Tony tried complimenting her, but she stared at him oddly before telling him to stop saying such rubbish. He managed to start manipulating her study group schedule, but only by moving the Slytherin session back by fifteen minutes.

He didn't feel nearly confident enough to sing to her. He _could_ --he was his father's son after all-- but there never seemed to be a good moment. Even if there was, he was fairly sure she wouldn't respond positively. If anything, she seemed to loath any sort of display, and continually commented on the vulgarity of so many celebrations and declarations of love made after the war.

"Did you know that, once the smoke cleared, Ron actually kissed me?" she said once, with disgust laced in her tone.

Tony hadn't known that, but he _did_ know that he wasn't going to be lenient if the redhead ever belittled him ever again. Weasley may be the tall one of the two, but Tony found he was increasingly better at discretely taking down Seventh Years, Malfoy the most notable example.

"People were_ clapping_! How ridiculous is that? There were people seriously injured and even dead, and all anyone could do was snog and congratulate those people snogging."

"What did you do?"

"Pushed him away, of course. Voldemort may have been dead, but there was still a lot to do. Hogwarts didn't rebuild itself, and the Headmaster certainly didn't do all of it himself."

He could only look at her with complete awe and think what a wonderful Queen she would make. The more he spoke with her and the more time he spent with her, the more he realized she was exactly what his father had spoke of those days when his mother was Aboveground: a girl who defied him, who enjoyed a challenge, and who could be counted on to do his ruling for him while taking none of the credit.

The more he knew her, the more he wanted to keep her. She was argumentative, strong willed, and completely insane sometimes, but he couldn't stop himself from growing envious and jealous any time she was away from him.

As a formerly only child, and a prince no less, he was by all means unaccustomed to not getting what he wanted. It pricked and prodded at his pride, and left him a happy, blushing mess when she was there, and completely inconsolable when she wasn't.

It wasn't long before all the work he'd put into befriending the school at the beginning of the year began to unravel. All the distrust that had first shown itself when his heritage was revealed took further root. For all that he had resumed the position of social pariah from when the _Prophet_ article had first been published, he found he had no interest in correcting the situation.

In fact, Tony found there wasn't much that interested him. He kept up with his schoolwork only because it gave him an excellent excuse to spend time with Hermione. Otherwise, he put forth no effort into accumulating house points. Professor Snape even pulled him aside at one point to enquire menacingly as to why Slytherin was now loosing points instead of gaining. He couldn't give his Head of House an adequate response, but the dour man seemed to get the gist of it. At the very least, Hermione complained more often of being docked points in Potions.

Most of his Hermione-less time was spent plotting new ways of forcing her to spend time with him. He wasn't prepared to say it was a crush, or even that he liked her, but he did know that he wouldn't mind, and would actually prefer, if all his time was spent in her presence.

In true romantic comedy spirit, the crush was obvious to all who saw it and that was almost the entire school with the exception of the two most involved. Hermione continued to pat him on his shoulder when he did good and chastise him when he didn't, completely missing the way his cheeks filled with colour in her presence. Tony continued to grow increasingly fond of her and did all he could to stay in her good graces.

And their erstwhile stalkers continued to giggle at their antics even as they reinforced their stealth spells. The First Year wizard and Seventh Year witch were clueless when it came to the motivations of each other, but they could be downright frightening when it came to defence.

* * *

"I don't think we have to worry about them plotting world domination," Ron said one morning as he and Harry walked to Herbology. "She's still too worried about NEWTs, and I think he's far too besotted with her to do more than blush and stare right now." 

Harry was almost impressed. It had only taken two months for the redhead to reach the same conclusion he had, but it was still commendable.

"I think you may be right," Harry replied solemnly.

"It's a bit disturbing, though," Ron said thoughtfully. "I mean, I've never _really_ trusted the runt, but he gives us some pretty nasty looks whenever we're with Hermione. Not just nasty Slytherin looks either."

"He's eleven, Ron. How scary can he be?"

Ron still couldn't help but shiver a bit when he thought about the First Year. It wasn't just the glares. He was accustomed to glares. He could deal with glares.

But lately, he'd found his class work frequently missing and his shoe laces tied together. There were even a few blank spaces in his memory in which anywhere from seconds to hours were missing from his life. He could never pinpoint exactly when the child would have been able to do such things, or even how, but living with the twins had taught him nothing if not caution. Ron knew he wasn't always the brightest student, but he knew enough about life to know that appearances could be deceiving.

He also knew that admitting he suspected an eleven-year-old of unknown pranks would only be met with ridicule.

"I don't know... You could be pretty scary when you were younger," he said instead.

"Well, yes, but that was all Voldemort's fault," Harry responded.

They shared a look before chuckling heartily. Though neither boy would admit out loud that he understood what his friend was trying to say, they both knew and began to pay more attention to the increasingly bothersome antics of one Antonius Williams.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was miserable. Draco Malfoy was completely and utterly miserable. He was even beginning to have partially serious thoughts of possibly re-evaluating his life. 

Since before his discovery of the Usurper's true identity, he'd been subject to ridicule and undeserved punishment. Even after his discovery, Draco had nothing but trouble. His father wanted him to do some damage control and befriend the young menace, but Draco thought this was one order he was damned well going to ignore. Even had he _wanted_ to rebuild the burnt bridges, it seemed the brat was far more introspective lately and less likely to accept any extended olive branch.

There were simply no ways to Slytherin out of the treacherous situation. He had never felt this trapped before, not even during Voldemort's short reign. If anything, he felt he'd been given quite the reprieve during the whole Voldemort saga by whatever distracted benevolent god was controlling his destiny. He even sometimes had the distinct impression that said deity had skipped a step or two, making Voldemort's defeat ultimately far too easy. However, most of the time he took great care to ignore that Voldemort had ever existed, that his family had ever sided with the ungrateful maniac, and that Draco's childhood nemesis was credited with destroying the vapid and selfish man.

As a vapid and selfish young man himself, he found it surprisingly easy to forget almost anything even mildly inconvenient.

Unfortunately, this did not extend to present circumstances, especially when present circumstances were contrary to his happiness and even occasionally threatened serious harm. He was not going to buy for an instant that he had simply tripped after he'd so perfectly insulted Granger.

There were other forces at work here, forces that didn't appreciate him. In short, he didn't like it.

Still, hiding out in his dorm had spared him nothing. Running any time he saw the Williams brat also seemed to do little good.

No. The more he thought on his deplorable situation, the more he knew he had to be more active in changing it. As much as he hated to risk his own skin, it seemed as if he was risking it whether he did anything production or not. He might as well take steps towards his own liberation.

If he accomplished anything during his seventh year, he was going to get Antonius Williams out of Hogwarts.

* * *


End file.
